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VU% Compilation, 














THE KING'S NARRATIVE, edited by Peftb, 147 

B08C0BEL— Part 1 183 





ATUM," 323 



BOSCOBEL HOUSE, 1814, from the West, . To face Title. 

BATTLE OF WORCESTER, ... To fare Page 38 



BY THE FIVE PENDRELS, &c., . . „ „ 56 

BOSCOBEL HOUSE, from the South, . . ,, „ 98 


MOSELEY HALL, „ „ 101 



As it is desirable to advert as briefly as possible 
to matters merely personal, I shall content myself 
with stating, that the plan of the annexed compila- 
tion originated with my friend, the late Bishop 
Copleston, to whose varied acquirements I need 
hardly have alluded in the year 1830, when the 
first edition was published. It is scarcely necessary 
to subjoin, what will be obviously inferred, that, as 
the most convenient method of explaining my views 
on some points, I have interwoven with my answer 
to his Lordship's letter some remarks not originally 
contained in it. The diary of the king's proceed- 
ings, according to the plan recommended, will pre- 
cede the tracts, of the material parts of which it is 
intended to form an abstract. 

.... October 20, 1827. 

My dear Sir, — The interest I expressed to you, 
about a year ago, in the story of King Charles's 
escape after the l)attle of Worcester, has been re- 


vived, and much increased by a visit I lately paid 
to Boscobel and Moseley, two of the principal scenes 
in that memorable affair ; and my desire is now 
stronger than ever that some one, qualified both by 
education and taste for such a task, would imder- 
take to sift all the historical materials relating to it 
which can be collected, and draw out a complete 
circumstantial narrative, digested in exact order of 
time, from the day of the battle to the day of the 
king's landing in France. 

The adventure made an early impression on my 
n^a. a, bei-g by fer the ml rom>«tic piece of 
English history we possess, and one concerning 
which it is probable that diligent search might yet 
recover some particulars tending to fill up the 
chasms left by the treatises abeady published. Lord 
Clarendon's reflection, with which he introduces the 
subject in his own History, is doubtless well known 
to you. " It is a great pity that there never was a 
journal made of that miraculous deliverance," &c. 
(Vol. iii. p. 413.) When Clarendon wrote, Boscobel 
had indeed been published, but does not seem to 
have been read by him. It would at least have 
saved him from the tissue of blunders and inaccura- 
cies with which his narrative abounds during the 
first week, as indeed it does in every part. But 
the king's own narrative, dictated to Pepys, and 
carefully corrected and completed by him from 


other living authorities, was not written till more 
than twenty years after the publication of Boscobd, 
and was not even then given to the world. The 
interest in the story, from the change in political 
feeling which took place after the reign of James IL, 
not less than from the lapse of years, soon began to 
decline ; nor does it seem to have revived till the 
beginning of the late reign, when an authentic 
edition of Pepys's narrative appeared, published from 
the original manuscript in the library of Magdalen 
College, Cambridge. 

In the mean time, and for many years affcer this 
publication. Lord Clarendon's History was the source 
from which people in general took their notions of 
the whole affair. It was from that book that I 
first caught, in my boyish days, the interest I have 
always felt in it — an interest so associated with all 
my early feelings, that I may be forgiven for ex- 
pressing something like vexation at the recent tale 
of the king's adventures at Woodstock, where it 
was impossible he could have been, or near it, if 
the story of this memorable escape be true. You 
know what my opinion is of the genius and talents 
of the author of whom I thus presume to complain. 
It is the sense of that genius which enhances my 
regret. Whenever his pen is employed in filling up 
the vacant outline of historical truth, in clothing 
the bare skeleton of recorded facts with natural and 


probable circumstances, in giving warmth of colour- 
ing to the portrait of personages long since deceased, 
and introducing to our familiar acquaintance those 
stately characters who must always wear some 
degree of stiffness in the hands of the historian, I 
feel, as all the world does, the highest admiration of 
his enchanting powers. But the transaction of 
which I am speaking would not admit of the exer- 
cise of these powers, even if the authority of history 
had been respected. For the truth is here preserved 
in the minutest details. It is not paucity of mate- 
rials, but confusion and inaccuracy, that we have 
to complain of. The fertility of invention would, 
in this case, have been thrown away. It should be 
transferred to some barren region, where the land- 
marks are bold and definite, but the general surface 

But the fact, I believe, is, that the precise nature 
of the pleasure we derive from such inquiries, is not 
rightly understood by the generality of those who 
write or who read historical romances. It is a 
province of criticism which appears to have been 
but little explored, or rather, I should say, altoge- 
ther unknown in its relation to taste. And yet I 
am persuaded that under it lies a source of pure 
intellectual pleasure, springing from the very consti- 
tution of our minds, and well worthy of being 
studied in all its peculiarities. There is, undoubt- 


edly, implanted in us a love of truth, a desire to 
know what has actually happened, merely because 
it has happened, independently of the nature or 
the importance of the things themselves. If the 
things we hear told be avowedly fictitious, and yet 
curious, or afiecting, or entertaining, we may indeed 
admire the author of the fiction, and may take 
pleasure in contemplating the exercise of his skill ; 
but this is a pleasure of another kind — a pleasure 
wholly distinct from that which is derived from 
discovering what was unhnovmy or clearing up what 
was doubtful. And even when the narrative is in 
its own nature such as to please us, and to engage 
our attention, how greatly is the interest increased 
if we place entire confidence in its truth! Who 
has not heard from a child, when listening to a tale 
of deep interest — who has not often heard the artless 
and eager question, " Is it true ? '' 

So strong indeed is this instinct that, if much 
encouraged and indulged, it sometimes acquires an 
ascendancy perfectly ridiculous — a passion which is 
best exemplified, perhaps, in the frivolous pursuits 
of local antiquaries ; or in violations of the sacred 
repose of the dead, for the sake of ascertaining some 
insignificant point, about which history is either 
contradictory or silent. 

But being, as it clearly is, an original principle of 
our nature, it is entitled to its share of cultivation 


and of exercise ; and it is never exercised more 
innocently or rationaUy than in endeavouring to 
correct errors, or bring to light facts connected with 
the principal events of our national history. In 
this department, the whole value of the object of 
our search depends upon its truth. Let the histo- 
rical work be ever so grand, it is better to leave 
the subordinate parts blank, than to introduce any- 
thing spurious or of doubtful authority. But when 
the outline is not only traced with precision and 
fidelity, but from time to time fresh lines are added, 
which tend to give fulness and animation to the 
subject, the value of each successive addition is to 
be estimated, not merely by its intrinsic importance, 
but by the improved effect given to all around it. 
Truth is a quality essential to the whole ; but the 
accession of each part respectively operates, not as 
if it were merely added to the compound, but as 
multiplied into it. 

You will not, therefore, I trust, think it beneath 
your care, or foreign to your design, but rather 
essential to it, to investigate every fact, however 
minute ; to recover all that is not absolutely lost ; 
to set every fragment in its right place ; to ascer- 
tain, with scrupulous exactness, names, dates, and 
distances ; to verify disputed points ; to separate 
and reject unauthorised traditions or popular em- 
bellishments ; — and you will, I hope, seek to adorn 


the narrative only with views of the present state 
of the buildings, or other objects mentioned in the 
story, and with such notices of persons and things 
08 are undoubtedly authentic, and may tend to 
create an interest in the i-eader's mind. 

One thing, indeed, an indefatigable editor, if he 
has the true antiquarian spirit within him, would 
not hesitate to attempt, — the connection, wherever 
it can be made out, of famUiea and individuals now 
existing with those concerned in this extraordinary 
transaction. It is this which gives the finishing 
touch to an antiqiiarian essay, and which often 
creates a lively interest in minds otherwise hardly 
susceptible of such a feeling towards anything that 
happened a hundred years ago. 

If self, and things connected with self, be the 
legitimate source of feehng, we surely may acquire 
a firmer hold upon the affections of men, by tracing 
lines of communication between this age and the 
past ; threads, as it were, wliich connect the trans- 
actions of those days with our own perceptions. A 
pedigree then becomes a sort of conductor to that 
subtle agent, which usually acts at an elevation 
beyond the ordinary sphere of mortal feeling ; but 
when thus brought down, it warms even tlie dullest 
bosom with a sympathy for people of remote times. 

You may perhaps find it difficult to make out 
Uiis connection with the subordinate agents in the 


transaction, although I should not altogether despair 
of success even with them ; but the representatives 
of the more important characters may, in many 
instances, be ascertained without much trouble. 
And if you agree with me in thinking that this is 
the way to awaken and fix attention to your sub- 
ject, you will not regard a little trouble as thrown 
away, however small the result of your inquiries 
may appear to be when exhibited in the page. 

But I have abeady, perhaps, said more than was 
necessary to rouse you to put your hand to the 
work; and more than I had any right to say, in 
the way of advice, to one whose own judgment is 
sufficient to guide him even in greater undertak- 
ings. I will therefore add but one word more. 

It would not be amiss, I think, to reprint the 
whole of Lord Clarendon's accoimt, as one of the 
documents relating to this afiair. It will furnish 
an instructive comment upon the critical principle 
I touched upon early in this letter, and will lead 
men to reflect upon its truth and its importance. 
In Clarendon there is no lack of minute and cir- 
cimistantial detail, but hardly is there a single fact 
truly stated. All the circumstances, reiterated, as 
they doubtless were, in the conversation of those 
days, with variations and transpositions, more or 
less important, of time, place, person, and name, 
were set down by him from the mouth of his 


several informants, in that method which seemed 
most striking or agreeable. And if it were not for 
the value of truth, even in the smallest matters, 
as a principle of taste we might well permit the 
arrangement to remain undisturbed ; for it certainly 
has no bad moral effect ; and whether it was John 
Penderel, or Richard Penderel, who did this or 
that — ^whether a remarkable conversation passed at 
Boscobel, or at Moseley, or at Trent — whether the 
king's horse lost a shoe on the Tuesday's journey, 
or the Wednesday's, — the interest of the story is 
probably as great when told in one way as the 
other, provided we can divest ourselves of all regard 
to that principle which I hold to be one of the most 
congenial with our nature. But if the mind natu- 
rally revolts from this slovenly system, let us not 
doubt that the pains we take in establishing the 
truth even of the smallest circumstances, are far 
from being puerile or insignificant ; and this speci- 
men of the noble historian, when carefully compared 
with your own correct narrative, will show how 
much may yet be done, by diligence and perseve- 
rance, in rectifying the historical statements even 
of our best writers. — I am, my dear Sir, your sincere 

and affectionate Friend, 

E. Llandaff. 



My dear Lord, — I have not been idle since the 
receipt of your gratifying letter, which has at once 
stimulated and guided me in investigating, to the 
best of my power, a subject on which my own recol- 
lections were a little confused. Much, I think, has 
already been clearly stated on the matter in question, 
by the able article in the Retrospective Review^ which 
introduces the Whitgreave manuscript ; but the per- 
usal of some tracts in the Bodleian and elsewhere, 
not generally known, inclines me to hope that the 
subject has not been as yet exhausted ; and that the 
methodical diary which you recommend may prove 
not unacceptable. Distrusting, as I still do, my own 
limited knowledge as to the necessary details, I yet 
feel strongly tempted to undertake a task whose 
nature and object you have pointed out so lumin- 
ously ; but nothing should induce me so to do, if 
I did not conceive the project consistent with the 
high esteem and regard which I entertain for the 
author of Woodstock, for reasons of which you are 
well aware. I must own that I have somewhat 
shared in your disappointment at Sir Walter Scott's 
departure, in this instance, from his usual historical 
accuracy ; but has not his apology as a novelist been 
in some degree pronounced by yourself, when you 


say, "tbat in the transaction in question the tnitU 
is preserved in its minutest detaUs, and that fer- 
tility of inyeutiou would in this instance have 
been thrown away t " It was perhaps from con- 
ceiving all well-educated persons to be familiarly 
acquainted with the facta subsequent to the battle 
of Worcester (in which, perhaps, Sir Walter over- 
estimates the historical knowledge of his readers), 
that he yielded to the temptations held out by " the 
merry devil" of Woodstock, and detex-mined on de- 
parting from a track where every successive event 
would have been foreseen. In a case in which he 
had imagined the possibility of misleading the world 
in general, I cannot help thinking that he would 
have strictly adhered to historical truth ; at least 
he has not abused it more than Paul Veronese did 
in the Spanish costumes which occupy the front- 
ground of the celebrated Marriage in Cana ; a whiui 
of art by which Messer Paolo undoubtedly did not 
intend to delude the public, and which he probably 
could have explained on those well-known profes- 
sional principles which allow the quidlibet audendi 
in certain cases. Be this as it may, the interest ex- 
cited by Sir Walter's works relating to the period 
of histoiy in question, is sufficient to justify a matter- 
of-fact detail of one of its principal episodes, arranged 
with attention to dates and localities. 
I know, indeed, of no part of our annals which 


continues to be so familiar a subject of conversation 
among the commonalty as that connected with 
"King Charles and the Royal Oak/^ In every 
village directly or indirectly marked by particular 
incidents of the king's escape, the honest rustics pre- 
serve their scattered legends in a shape more or less 
correct, and mixed and transposed as they must 
necessarily be in many cases : and it is pleasing to 
witness the yeomanly pride with which, like Catho- 
lics zealous for the honour of our Lady of some par- 
ticular shrine, they contend for the appropriation of 
some well-known incident, as connected with the 
good and loyal service performed by the companions 
of their forefathers. This interest is, in most cases, 
strengthened by the existence of the identical houses 
where the circumstances in question took place, and 
of the principal families whose names figure con- 
spicuously in the tale, as well as by the slightness of 
difference between our present domestic habits and 
those of a time commencing, as it were, the more 
familiar era of dates. And to all ranks, in fact, the 
occurrences in question are calculated to present one 
of those pleasing episodes in history, distinct from 
the wearying details of bloodshed and political in- 
trigue, which we dwell on with unmixed satisfaction, 
as reflecting honour on our national good faith, and 
as brought home to our fancy by those domestic 
mintUicB which form so great a charm in the Odys- 



sey. The reality here presents all those features of 
romance which the imagination chiefly supplies in 
the Partie de Ckasse d' Henri IV., or the incognitos 
of Haroun Alraschid. The monarch (in none of 
these instances, it must be owned, the most perfect 
of characters) is brought in contact, man to man, 
with the humblest of his subjects, in situations cal- 
ciilated to draw forth the good qaalities, and show 
the undisguised feelings of both parties. In our 
present case, he also bears his part manfully amid 
the dangers and perplexities occasioned by his so- 
journ, and even seta the example of decision and 
presence of mind to his preaeiTera. 

Certainly, at no time of his Ufe does the character 
of Charles II. appear to so much advantage as at 
the period of the battle of Worcester, and his subse- 
quent escape. The cool and resolute spirit inherited 
from his father, which showed itself during the most 
hopeless crisis of the engagement, was alike con- 
spicuous in the circumstances of his flight, and was 
united with a presence of mind equally distinct from 
over-caution and temerity. Nor does that easy good- 
humour, which was one of his best traits, and sat 
more gracefully upon him than on his grandfather, 
ever appear to have forsaken him when most 
pressed by adverse fortune. And had the vigilance 
of his pursuers, or the treachery of his associates, 
brought him to the fate which he sought in vain at 


the head of his disunited forces, it would have been 
as fortunate for his character, as it would have 
proved to his brother's reputation to have fallen by 
the side of the brave Lord Muskerry. History 
would, in either case, have lost a theme of repro- 
bation in a bad king, and gained as respectable 
a hero as many whom it has thought fit to im- 

The romantic associations suggested by Highland 
names and scenery, together with the daring nature 
of the enterprise terminated by the battle of Cullo- 
den, have impressed the escape of the Chevalier 
more strongly on the imagination than the events 
of Boscobel ; but neither in the merit of the princi- 
pal characters concerned, nor the imminent nature 
of the dangers incurred can it, in my opinion, claim 
the precedence. In resource, presence of mind, and 
high personal character, the beautiful Jane Lane 
(as her best authenticated portrait proves her to 
have been) may fully challenge a parallel with the 
more poetical name of Flora Macdonald. Nor do 
the sturdy brotherhood of Penderel, bold and stanch 
to a man, who staked their homesteads and families, 
as well as their lives, on the event of their royal 
service, lose by comparison with the Caterans of the 
cave of Corambian, who, as old Hugh of Chisholm 
frankly allowed, were outlawed men, and could 
make no use of the reward offered. I shall not, 


however, attempt to depreciate the real disinter- 
estedness of these " honest thieves/^ nor determine 
which of the two narratives is most gratifying to 
national pride. One striking circumstance in both 
is, that so many persons acquainted with the features 
of the fugitive princes (remarkable in each instance) 
preserved an unbidden silence as to their accidental 

It seems pretty well agreed, that Charles Edward 
was wanting to himself and his cause at the battle 
of Culloden ; a fault which cannot be alleged against 
Charles 11. on the day of Worcester, though as many 
circumstances had occurred previously to break and 
depress his spirit. In no particular, indeed, were 
the latter lives of either of these princes equal to 
their outset. Adversity may, indeed, afford a salu- 
tary discipline either to a monarch in possession of 
his throne, like Charles VII. of France, or to a private 
man trusting to his own exertions for the amend- 
ment of his prospects. But an exiled prince, who 
can neither dig nor beg, whose poverty cannot shel- 
ter itself in a comer, and whose very bread depends 
upon the favour of some insolent foreign minister, is 
likely either to sink into hopeless despondency, or, 
if of a more hardy and stirring temper, to learn 
impressions unfavourable to singleness of mind and 
high principle, from the means which he must 
court to rise again. Thus we observe that Charles 


Edward sunk into drunkenness and premature 
dotage ; while his great-uncle returned from his ten 
years' foreign sojourn an adept in dissimulation as 
well as vice. 

I do not think you will imagine, from anything 
I have said, that it is my purpose to attempt a de- 
fence of the character of Charles XL Enough has 
already been heard of the middle and latter part of 
his life, and history has passed a just sentence on 
him, which it would be as vain to combat, as to re- 
vive the vindication of Richard III/s humanity and 
comeliness, which failed even in the hands of Lord 
Orford. It is, however, but justice to allow, that 
no man could better deserve, as a public character, 
the flattering reception which is considered so great 
an aggravation of his demerits. Without inquiring 
whether P^re d'Orl^ans is right as to the king's 
volimtary rejection of the magnificent income which 
would have made him independent of his subjects, 
it is at least certain that he discountenanced the 
attempt to obtain it. The disbanding of the troops 
in Scotland, the dismantling of the Scots fortresses, 
the rigid adherence to the manifesto of Breda, in 
spite of the zeal of his first ultra-loyal parliament, 
the abandonment of the projected order of the Royal 
Oak, and the invitation of the puritan divines to the 
conference of the Savoy, all betoken the same right 
constitutional spirit, exercised, as it must have been 


in most instances, at the expense of his own wishes 
and prejudices. 

But no person of reflection can suppose that, 
under the political circumstances of that day, the 
enthusiasm excited by Charles II/s reception could 
last long. A heavy reckoning was in store, after the 
first burst of joyous feasting ; or (if such a parallel 
appear to you too homely) it was like one of those 
brilliant mornings during xmsettled weather, which 
afford clear indication to an experienced eye that 
the storms of yesterday are brewing again in the 
horizon. When the bonfires had burnt themselves 
out, and the natural contagion of novelty had sub- 
sided, all the elements of contention which arose 
from an ill-defined prerogative, an unsettled ecclesi- 
astical polity, the disappointed hopes of the more 
zealous cavaliers, and the mortified pride of the re- 
publicans, who had admitted the king as a choice of 
evils, were in full force and turbulence again. The 
case seems parallel with the delicate and difficult 
position in which Louis XVIII. was placed, on his 
accession to the throne of France, save that the 
popular spirit had not been broken, as in the latter 
instance, by the continued evils of war. With his 
past experience of his father's fate, the king must 
have felt that his own crown did not sit securely 
on his head, and that his nearest relative was 
the subject of the bitterest religious and political 



animosity, from circumstances which his preroga- 
tive could not control. To appease the bulk of the 
nation, whose moral sense was perhaps never stronger 
than at this time, and to win the confidence which 
high personal worth must always command, might 
have been a task practicable to a master-spirit, 
schooled like Edward VI. by habits of early piety 
and discipline ; a monarch firm without harshness, 
constant to his purpose, and patiently devoted to 
the kingly work of a long life. It is needless to 
remark how totally unfitted for the formation of 
such a character must have been the circumstances 
of Charles's early career, commenced as it were in 
boot and saddle, at a time when the education of 
princes in general has not terminated, amid the 
license of a camp and the collision of turbulent 
spirits. The date of MonmoutVs birth shows that 
his habits of libertinism had commenced at an early 
age ; nor were his religious impressions likely to be 
improved either by his experience of Catholic courts, 
or the example of the strictest professors of the Pro- 
testant faith ; by the ferocious fanatics of the com- 
monwealth who hunted him as an enemy, or the 
Covenanters who, prepared aUke to use, sacrifice, or 
degrade him into a puppet, as might best suit their 
purpose, coupled their scanty dole of observance 
with the most coarse and galling indignities. 

After this unfavourable preparation, strengthened 


in its efl'ect by a long exile, he returned a latitu- 
(linarian in religion and morals, and a stranger 
to the mass of his subjects. He must soon have 
found that his constitutional obligingness of temper, 
and the natural sense of justice which may be fairly 
inferred from the firat actions of hia reign, were not 
sufficient to meet so arduous a crisis, unsupported hj 
more solid stamina of character. Unable to change 
hia nature at thirty, he soon sunk \mder a task too 
great for his powers and habits. Dissimulation, the 
vice of slaves in general, and more pcculiai-ly so of 
the moat complete of all slaves, a coerced and sus- 
pected king, was at hand as a resource from the per- 
sonal danger which Oates's plot must have shown 
him to be of no chimerical nature ; and its lessons 
had been long ago made familiar to him during the 
bondage of the Covenanters. And it is probable 
that Louis XIV., the most accomplished gentleman 
of his age, and nearly connected with the English 
throne by the ties of blood, well knew how to mask 
his mischievous assistance under the guise of rela- 
tionship, and to soften its himibling conditions by 
every artifice of good-breeding. 

It nowhere appears, I think, that the piu-pose of 
Charles extended to the establishment of the Catho- 
lic religion in this country.* His natural sense. 

* Xothiug cat) afTord a atrongcr couti-ast to th« apoatasy of 
CharWa latter years tban hie [irivate instructions and letters to 


and his indifference to religion in general, as well as 
his dying injunctions to his brother James, alike tend 
to refute this suspicion. His only purpose seems to 
have been, aware as he was of James's impracticable 
bigotry, to spare future civil bloodshed, and pre- 
serve the succession undisturbed by questions as to 
the faith of the reigning monarch ; and perhaps to 
die quietly himself in the profession of a creed so 
accommodating to loose livers. Be this as it may, 
some excuse for the tyrannical acts of his latter 
reign may be sought in the personal degradation 
which he had suffered during the zenith of Gates, 
in the treachery of Shaftsbury, and the ingratitude 
of his favourite son Monmouth. More is made of 

his brother James, extracted from Thurloe's State Papers by 
Lord Ilailes, among other letters in the Appendix to the King's 
Narrative. In the Instructions, dated Cologne, July 1654, he 

" I have told you what the queen (Henr. M.) hath promised 
me concerning my brother Harry in point of religion, and I 
have given him charge to inform you if any attempt shall be 
made upon him to the contrary, in which case you will take 
the best care you can to prevent his being wrought upon, since 
you cannot but know how much you and I are concerned 
in it. 

Again, in his letter from the same place, Nov. 1654, — 

" Dear Brother, — I have received yours without a date, in 
which you mention that Mr Montague has endeavoured to per- 
vert you in your religion. I do not doubt but you remember 
very well the commands I left with you at my going away 


his well-known sarcasm on Lord Russell than it 
deserves, extorted as it was by the galling recollec- 
tion of Lord Stafford's judicial murder.* It was 
at least a statement of the plain truth, and coupled 
with a mitigating act of the royal prerogative 
towards one whom even his friends admit to have 
tampered with the Rye-House conspirators to some 

On the charge of personal ingratitude it is much 
more easy to clear the king's character, in reference 
to the services performed during his escape. A 
familiar idea of the claims of some of the dis- 
appointed tories may be formed from Addison's 
amusing papert (aUowing always for his party 

concemiDg that point, and am confident you will observe them ; 
yet the letters that come from Paris say that it is the queen's 
purpose to do all she can to change your religion, which, if you 
hearken to her or anybody else in that matter, you must never 
think to see me or England again. .... 

And whensoever anybody shall 
go to dispute with you in religion, do not answer them all ; for 
though you may have the reason on your side, yet they, being 
prepared, will have the advantage of anybody that is not on 
the same security as they are. If you do not consider what I 
say to you, remember the last words of your dead father, which 
were — to be constant to your religion, and never to be shaken 
in it, which if you do not observe, this shall be the last time you 
will ever hear from, dear brother, your most affectionate brother, 

" Charles R." 

* See the Lift of Lord Rtissell, by his descendant. Lord John 
Russell. t Spectator, No. 629. 


prejudices), exactly in unison with a petition from 
some superannuated patentee, which I have seen in 
the journals of the House of Commons of that 
period. It may be fairly supposed, that a king 
restored by the suflferance of a powerful and jealous 
poUtical party, and fettered in his resources by his 
adherence to previous pledges, stands merely as the 
representative of a cause, and possesses no more 
the power of providing for a twentieth part of his 
adherents, than the successful candidate at an elec- 
tion has the means of gratifying the bulk of his 
constituents. Had Charles even been free firom the 
profusion which devoured his scanty revenues, he 
would probably have found it a measure as imprac- 
ticable as unpopular, to display a marked liberality 
to the cavaliers in general. This the more high- 
minded probably felt as the necessary consequence 
of a civil war, whose reversionary evils are second 
only to its actual ones ; whUe the king, conscious 
that his gratitude must be as limited as his means, 
drew the line of recompense in favour of those 
whose loyalty to his own immediate person had 
been unequivocally proved under their own roofs, 
whose bread he had eaten, and whose lives he had 
endangered. It would have cost Charles nothing, 
and gratified his personal pride, to have placed his 
name among these faithful adherents, as patron of 
the projected order of the Royal Oak. This idea. 


we know, was abandoned to avoid the perfjetuation 
of party feeling ; but it clearly appears that do 
cluim, preferred on the grounds of which we speak, 
was left ungratified by a solid recompense, accom- 
panied in some instances, and probably in all, by 
testimonies of the king's esteem. Nor is it impro- 
bable that Buckingham and the younger Rochester 
might have owed much of the indulgence with 
which they were treated, the one to his own former 
partnership in danger, and the other to his father's 
memorj'; for a congenial taste in Ubertinism seldom 
serves as au apology in the eyes of a sovereign for 
such ungovernable insolence as characterised both 
these minions. 

At all events, Charles's conduct to the Penderels, 
and other families connected with the present nar- 
rative, exhibits a great contrast to his cold and 
pusillanimous behaviour in the case of Blood and 
Edwards." No trait, perhaps, more strongly displays 
the moral scepticism and total perversion of feeling, 
which was the final consequence of his vices, than 

* In the accounts of Becret-service money disbiiraed for the 
Crown duriog ten years tcrniiiiat'mg a. d. 1688, upwards of 
X1800 is entered as paid to diiTereDt members of the Fcndorel 
family, grand children included, in the shape of bountiee. ad- 
YOnccs ta Bssiat their furtbcmnce in life, and otherwise. See 
n tract edited by John Youge Akerman, Esq., Secretary and 
Follow of the Society of Antiquaries of London, from documents 
furnishtd by William Selby Lowndes, Ksij 


that he should have bestowed on the most insolent 
of ruffians the reward withheld from the trusty 
servant who had defended his regalia from that 
very ruffian, at the risk of his own life. From this 
circumstance alone, I frankly own to you, that I 
give up the monarch of Whitehall both as a king 
and a gentleman, retaining, however, some little 
partiality for him as the fugitive hero of those 
memoirs which I wiU now specify to you as the 
proposed materials of my short Diary.* 

* In the British Moseum is a broadsheet, entitled " A Mad 
Designe, or a Description of the King of Scots marching in 
disguise after the rout at Worcester, with the particulers where 
he was, and what he and his company did, every day and night, 
after he fled from Worcester." London, printed by Robert Ibbit- 
son, 1651 ; with the day of the month, " November 6th," below 
in MS. This, the Roundhead account, is fictitious throughout ; 
but it is curious to see how near they had arrived to the truth 
with respect to the " riding as a servant before a lady,'* and 
the temporary occupation of a tree as an asylum. The sheet 
contains a caricature (the " Mad Designe"), satirising King 
Charleses expedition, in which " Duke Hambleton" figures 
conspicuously. The following extract from the letterpress con- 
tains all that relates to the King's escape, — 

" 6. The Scots King's flight represented by the fool on horse- 
back, riding backward, and turning his face every way in feares, 
ushered by Duke Hambleton and the Lord Wilmot, the par- 
ticulers of which perambulation was thus : 

" 1. While he called upon Duke Hambleton to stirre up his 
men to keep the royall fort at Worcester, September 3, himselfe 
gave the slip to his lodging, and fetched away the richest trea- 
sure he could presently come at. 


1 . The narrative dictated by the king to Pepye, 
printed originally by Lord Hailes, sixty or seventy 
years ago, from the authentic MSS. in the library 
of Magdalen College, Cambridge ; together with 
other letters from Charles to difTereut persons. 

2. Doscohet, first and second parts, Ijy Thomas 
Blount, a Catholic lawyer, and sufferer in the royal 
cause, in which, also, he is said to have borne arms, 
lie is mentioned more particularly both by Watt 
and Chalmers. The first part of Boscohd is well 

" 2. Whilst Major Cobbet was ent.ring on one side of his honso, 
he escaped out at a bn^ck doore oa the other, and about 7 
o'clock ttiat night, with a party of horse posted away from 
Worcester, flying towards Scotland, 

" 3. The neit day, being September 4th, Charles Stuart, the 
Scuts King, with the Duke of Buckingham and the Lord 
Wilmot, come to a countryman's house in Cbeshiro that Btood 
alone, and naked for victuala. The man told them he had none 
fit to enterLtiu hia Majesty ; but if they pleased to light, be 
woidd get what the country would afford ; hut seeing thom- 
gelvcs discovered, they were afraid, and yet being very hungry 
and dry, asked for anything they had, and some cold powtherod 
hcefe was brotight to them. The Scots King di-unko off a fliigon 
of beere, and, with a iieece of bread in one hand, and of beefe in 
the other, the others also having got each a slice, away they all 
rid, and that morning marched into the borders of Lanoaahii-e, 
and all that day after lay close in a hollow tree, turning loose 
their horses at a farre diatanca before they come to the place 
where they resided. 

" 4. On the 4th of September, at night, they came like so 
Eoauy henuitfi or UiogeneseB, out of their tubs, and went a 
pitgrimoge all that night on foot. 


known as a popular work, which appeared soon 
after the restoration, and was translated into Por- 
tuguese at the desire of Queen Catherine. The 
second part, which appeared many years subse- 
quently, is more scarce ; and the different editions 
of the work, several of which I have inspected, 
generally consist of the first part, engrafted some- 

" 5. The next day, September 5, they betooke themselves to 
hide them in a wood, and got among thickets to hide them- 
selyes as well as they could, and got some hips and hawes, and 
such things as they could conveniently get (without yenturing 
too &rre) in the wood, where every noyse put them into a feare 
of being surprised. 

" 6. On the fifth of September, at night, they went on their 

" 7. On the ninth of September they came early in the morn- 
ing to a shepherd's tent, which they surprised, and called the 
shepherd, who, when he had opened the d cores, they kept him in 
the house, and would not let him goe out nor his wife, but 
discoursed about the gentry thereabouts ; by means whereof 
they came to know that a lady, in which they had some 
confidence, lived neare, whither they hasted with all speed, and 
the Lord Wilmote comming to the doore, got admittance to 
the lady, and prevailed with her to give them all possible 
assistance; and the Scots King being come to the lady, and 
having saluted her, they sate in counsell to consider how the 
businesse should be ordered, and it was agreed and accordingly 

<' Ist, That they should have their haire cut in the country 
fiishion, like plaine country fellows, which was done 
'' 2d, That they should weare plaine country - fitshioned 
clothes, which were presently got for them. 


times with the abridged matter of the second, and 
Bometimea with matter from other hooks of more or 
less credit. That which I have adopted is a diipH- 
cate of the copy in the Ashmolean Musemn, in the 
possession of our liberal friend, Mr Parker of Oxford, 
who haa allowed me its free use. It was published 
in 1725, conjointly with the Claustrum Jf&jale 
"3d, That they should be reputed servants to the said 

" 4th, That in this pretence she should goe with them to 
Bristol or some other port, to eudeavour the transport- 
ing them bejond the seas. 

" 8. On the seventh and eighth dayes of September the; lay 
there and waited on the lady in several! offices and places, and 
the Scots King himself stood bare before her, when he waited 
oD her as well as the rest, 

"9. On the ninth of September they took an mtended voyage 
for Bristol, and the Scots King rid before the iody on one 
borse, the Duke of Buckingham before her gentlewoman upon 
another horse, and the Lord WUmot as her groom upon an 
borse by himseife. 

" 10. About the middle of September tbey got to Bristol, but 
they heard in their inne so great a talke what search was 
made after them, that tliey presently tooko horse, not daring 
to stay there, and away tbey came fur Loudon. 

" 11. About the twcntyeth of Septeml>er they got to London, 
and went abroad, sometimes iu the mornings and at eveniogs, 
but generally lay very close all day ; and the Scots King and 
Wilmot wutod upon the lady at one lodging, and the Duke of 
Buckingham waited as a servingmau to the geutlewoman at 

"12. About the latter end of September the Scots King 
with the lady oome to see his souMiers in the Turtle Fields at 


Reseratumy which Watt, in his herculean Btbltotheca 
Bmtannica, mentions as " a scarce and high-prized 
curiosity," and seems groundlessly to suppose that 
Blount took a part in composing or editing it. The 
tract was published originaUy in 1681, written by 
the wife, or, as CoUinson thinks, the sister, of 
Colonel Francis Wyndham, and describes minutely 

Westminster, and the ladj threw them some monies, but they 
stayed not. 

*'13. Another day the Scots King came into Westminster 
Hall, and viewed the States Armes over the places of judicatory, 
and viewed the Scots colours hanging on both sides the Hall 
that were taken from his fiither and from him. 

" 14. The Lord Wilmot procui*ed a merchant to hire a ship 
of forty tuns to transport them, which cost them £120. 

" 15. About the middle of October, having taken leave of, and 
thanked the lady with many salutations and promises, to 
Gravesend they went, and from thence on and a-shipboard. 

"16. As soon as my Lord was entered the barque, and the 
King as his servant, the master of the vessel came to my Lord 
and told him that he knew the King, and told him that in case 
it should be known he would expect no mercy ; which saying 
troubled them, but, at length, what with money and promises, 
they prevailed, and so set saile for Havre de Grace, where they 
landed, and from thence to Boveu, where they cloathed them- 
selves and writ to Paris." 



" The Scots King told them [the Duke of Orleans, the late 
Queen, &c.], what had happened at the fight at Worcester, gave 


what passed during Charles's concealment at their 
mansion of Trent House. 

3. The manuscript, published in the Retrospective 
Review, written by Mr Whitgreave of Moseley Hall, 
the host of Charles, and communicated by his heir 
and descendant, the present Mr W. It is a simple 
and circumstantial narrative, entirely free from the 

8ome reproachful words against the Scots, put some scurrilous 
language on the Presbyterian party in England, and boasted 
much of his own valour. 

" Told them how bee slipt out of Worcester, and how neare 
he was taking there, first in the fort and after in his chamber. 

" How bee disguised himsclfe, and went from county to 
county, and what shift bee made for yictualls and lodging. 

'' Sometimes being driven to beg a piece of bread and meat, 
and ride with bread in one hand and meat in the other. 

" And sometimes setting a guard about a little cottage, while 
hee rested there untill the morning. That he went up and 
down Loudon in a gentlewoman's habit, where he saith he never 
saw handsomer coaches than they have now ; that he met with 
sevcrall persons that wished him no harme ; and that, at last, 
hee got to the sea coast, and there imbarkcd himselfe for this 
coast in a boat that my Lord Wilmot had provided and hired 
beforehand. He said hee knew nothing of what was become of 
the Duke of Buckingham, and that he had no other company or 
followers but the said Wilmot since he landed. He said, further, 
that he was never in better health, having got no harme at all 
in the fight."— R. H. B.* 

• N.B.— Tho notes marked R. H. B., and the pedigrees given, are from the 
pen of the late Rev. R. U. Barbam, author of the Ingoldshy Legendi, as given 
in an interleaved copy now in the Editor^s poflsossion, which belonged to the 
late Bishop of Llandaff. 


loyal fanaticism which renders Blount sometimes 
absurd, and from which the Ch/ustrum is not en- 
tirely free. 

4 and 5. Captain Ellesdon's Memoir, and ^' Letter 
from a Prisoner at Chester/' These tracts are found 
in the folio edition of the Clarendon papers, as 
documents approved by the Chancellor. The name 
and services of Ellesdon are mentioned in the other 
narratives of credit. 

Having carefully compared the above works, I find 
them agree in every material particular of dates and 
circumstances, save in the mistake of one day in 
the king's reckoning, which might have easily oc- 
curred after a period of more than twenty years 
from the time to which his recollections alluded. I 
have, therefore, made them the basis of the Diary 
which will precede them, in which the preference 
has been respectively given to the different narra- 
tors, as to those minutiae which came under his or 
her particular notice. 

It is satisfactory to find, that the Jesuit P^re 
d'Orl^ans, in his Histoire des Revolutions d! Angle- 
terre (Paris, 1693), who has given a minute account 
of the king's escape, varies hardly in a single point 
from the narratives which I have specified. He 
appears to have been a writer of reputation in 
his day, and the author of several other historical 


The narratives of Serle and Danvers, and the 
tract in the HarUian Miscdlanyy I believe I am 
authorised by yourself to consider of more doubtful 
authority; therefore shall make no use of them. 
Nor does the little book called Monarchy Revived^ 
published in 1661, appear to throw much new light 
on the matter, except in one or two passages, which 
are quoted in their place. There is, I understand, a 
small publication of the same date, entitled White 
Ladies, the only copy of which, supposed to be 
extant, is in the possession of the Hon. Thomas 
Grenville. I believe, however, it relates to matters 
stated with sufficient minuteness already by the 
king and Blount. 

As a prelude to those more authentic tracts which 
I have specified, it is my intention to reprint or 
abridge that part of Clarendon which varies so 
materially from the ascertained facts in question. 
This discrepancy a good deal ceases, when he has 
conducted the king from Bentley Hall. 


In the beginning of August 1651, Charles 11. 
decided on the bold measure which for a time 
perplexed the calculations of the Protector ; and, 
evading the vigilance of the parliamentary army, 
marched over the Scottish frontier, with a force 
amounting to about 8000 foot and 3000 horse, pro- 
vided, it should seem, with no better artillery than 
sixteen leather guns.* As the troops, consisting 
chiefly of Scots Covenanters, stood in a situation of 
peculiar delicacy with the royalists of the English 
counties, the strictest discipline was observed, as a 
necessary measure of conciliation.! In one case 
some stragglers had robbed an orchard ; in another, 
a soldier had refused payment at a publican's on the 
road. In both instances the offenders were punished 
with death ; J and it is probable that these harsh 
measures produced their effect in the unmolested 
progress of the army as far as Warrington. At this 

* Prisoner's letter from Chester. t Ibid. t Ibid. 

place Lambert and Harrison, whose troops had 
hitherto formed a flying corps of observation, con- 
centrated 7000 men,* with a view of disputing the 
passage of the river, the bridge over which had been 
broken down. The passage was soon made practi- 
cable by means of planks laid across the broken 
piers ; and Charles, leading on his men with great 
gallantry, effected his purpose in the face of the 
enemy, who, pursuant to the orders of Cromwell, 
offered no very obstinate resistance, and withdrew 
their forces without risking a general engagement. 
On August 22d the king arrived before the loyal 
town of Worcester, where it had been his intention 
to establish his first permanent headquarters. The 
ruinous fortifications of the city were speedily 
abandoned by the enemy's garrison of 500 horse ; 
and Charles, making his triumphal entiy forthwith, 
was proclaimed on the 23d. The next two or 
three days were spent in preparations for the grand 
muster, which was to take place on the 2Gth ; as 
well as in the usual ceremonials and rejoicings, and 
the refreshment of the wearied army, who, neverthe- 
less, with true covenanting zeal, found leisure to 
quarrel with certain expressions used in a sermon 
preached by Mr Crosby, an eminent ch^■ine of the 
town, as attributing an imdue spiritual authority to 
the king as head of the church. 

' LuJIom rupreseuts it as a larger force. 

34 DIAEY. 

In the mean time the fortunes of Charles were 
assuming a less favourable aspect in Lancashire, 
where the Earl of Derby had been left to try the 
spirit of that and the adjoining counties, and to 
organise reserves of recruits for the royal army. 
On the 25th of August that nobleman was attacked 
at Wigan, by a parliamentary regiment under Colo- 
nel Lilbum, whose superior discipline prevailed over 
the numbers and courage of the Earl's raw levies.* 
Several royalists of distinction were slain in the 
engagement ; and Derby himself, wounded and 
forced to fly, directed his course towards the king's 
main army at Worcester. Near Newport, on the 
borders of Shropshire and Stafibrdshire, he found 
entertainment with a royalist family, by whom 
he was directed to a place of shelter at Boscobel 
House, a sequestered spot in the neighbourhood of 
Brewood and Cannock Chase, and situated on a 
wild hilly common, in the centre of extensive woods. 
Here the Earl remained for two days, under the care 
of William Penderel,t a woodman and retainer of 
the Catholic family of Gifiard, to whom the Boscobel 
demesne then belonged, adjacent to their principal 
seat at Chillington. The seclusion of the spot, and 
the poverty and obscurity of its tenants, all con- 

* Ludlow states the royalists at 1500, the republicans 700, in 
number on this occasion. 

t See Pedigrees of the Penderel and Yates Families, &c., in 
Appendix (I.) 

apired to render this lioiise an imsiispected place 
of retreat ; and, in addition to these advantages, 
two separate hiding-places had been there contrived 
for the shelter of Catholic priests, — the one in the 
floor of the principal garret, — the other, and the 
more important, built into the body of the main 
chimney-stack, from whence it communicated from 
above with a small closet adjoining the best bed- 
room, and from below, with a low door leading into 
the garden. On the night of the SUt of August the 
Earl of Derby, having now enjoyed an interval of 
four or five days for the recovery of his wounds, set 
off with the impatience of a gallant spirit to join 
the king at Worcestei-, where he arrived just on the 
eve of the approaching battle. 

August 26. — On this day the grand muster took 
place at Pitchcroft,* a large meadow in the suburb, 

• There is no stronger proof of the authenticity of the kiiig's 
nAmtiTe (were such wanting), than his hlunder in speaking of 
Mr Whitgreave of Moseley, as " Mr Pitchcroft," It answers 
exactly to the t«5ts which Palej, in hia Honn Paulinte, shows to 
he most in&Ilible, as grounded on circumstatices too minute 
for imposture. The mortifying result of the Pitchcroft muster 
(which might naturally have been anticipated, in spite of the 
pains taken hy Charles to justify to the English the startling 
measure of a Border inioad). seems, from this little trait, to hnve 
dwelt strongly on his mind. And considering the national 
jealousy, which existed then and for more than fifty years 
aftcrwarde, the juuctiou of the small hand of Enghsh royalists 
was in troth a proof of their fidelity. Mere deeply pledged 
tiuiii (he rent, and fighting aa they did when all was evidently 

36 DIARY. 

bordering on the river. Many cavaliers of high 
family came in with small levies of horse, among them 
Lord Talbot, and Sir Walter, with three other gentle- 
men of the ancient and chivalrous name of Blount. 
This comparatively slight accession of force, however, 
was not sufficient to encourage the king in his 
original project of marching to London, where on 
this very day his proclamation was burnt by the 
hangman, and a counter manifesto of the most 
threatening nature promulgated. In the mean time 
the parliamentary main army, whose numbers, vary- 
ing according to different reports, certainly trebled 
the muster-roll of the royal forces,* began to push 
their outposts round the city, and everything seemed 
to portend the approach of a decisive action. 

Atigust 28. — ^A body of the enemy, under Lam- 
bert, forced the passage of the Severn at Upton, 
where the bridge had been broken down, and a 
plank laid across the piers for the acconmiodation of 
foot-passengers. Along this narrow approach an 
advanced guard of the most adventurous soldiers 
passed, and effecting a lodgment in Upton Church, 
assisted the main body in making good their ground, 

lost, they afford a parallel to '^ la garde qui meurt, mais ne se 
rend pas ; " and, without an unfair degree of partiality, we may 
consider them as the heroes of the day of Worcester ; in fiict, 
the English Camerons. 

* See Pdre d'Orleans's History of the Stuarts ; as well as 

in Bpite of a vigorous defence made by General 
Massey, who, being severely wounded himself, and 
ha>'iDg hi3 horse shot under him, was forced to fall 
back upon Worcester. 

August 29. — On this day, Cromwell, whose head- 
quartera had been the night before at White-Lady- 
Astoo, took post with his raain body at Red Hill, 
a mile east of the city. Perceiving themselves hem- 
med in gradually by a disciplined force trebling their 
own, the royalists immediately determined on try- 
ing the chance of a spirited and desperate measure. 
In the night, from 1200 to 1500 men, under General 
Middleton, attacked Cromwell's headquarters, wear- 
ing their shirts over their armour for the better dis- 
tinction of their own forces. Owing, however, to 
secret intelligence obtained by the enemy from 
Guise, or Gives, a tailor of Worcester, who was 
discovered and executed the nest day, they were 
repidsed with loss, and Cromwell maintained his 
position at Red HUl and Perry Wood for foui* days 
longer without interruption, and without attempt- 
ing any farther movement on the eastern side of the 
river. On the western side, however, a strong de- 
tachment approached from Upton, but made a bait 
at Powick Bridge, finding the opposite side of the 
Teme occupied by a brigade of the royalists under 
Major-General Montgomery. 

Septenibei- 3. — Early in the morning the king 

38 . DIARY. 

reconnoitred, from the toVer of the cathedral, the 
dispositions of the republicans, which now began to 
assume on all sides an offensive posture not to be 
mistaken. The protectors main army, occupying 
Perry Wood to the east and south-east, were as 
yet stationary; but a column of 1000 men, pro- 
vided with pontoons, were observed in motion from 
this point towards the river at BunshiU, about a 
mile below the town ; while at the same time the 
force under Fleetwood and Ingoldsby, which had 
remained before Powick Bridge since the 30th of 
August, advanced under a brisk fire to attack Mont- 
gomery's detachment. To prevent the junction of 
forces threatened by these combined movements, 
the king hastened southwards to the scene of action. 
Scarcely, however, had he quitted his first post, when 
the main body of the enemy commenced a fire of 
artillery on the fort royal, which protected the city 
on the south-east. The battle having now become 
general,* Charles, leaving Montgomery firm at his 
post on the Teme, and detaching Colonel Pitscottie 
with 300 Highlanders, to oppose the 1000 republi- 
cans in the passage of the Severn, galloped back to 
his headquarters, reconnoitring the advanced posts 
on the east of the city, in the face of the enemy's 
approaching fire. Meantime the attack on the south 

* According to Clarendon, the heat of the action commenced 
about noon. 

EattI'E of Foscestbs.. 

became more close and furious, under the eye of 
Cromwell, who had left Perry Wood to command 
the pontoniers and the column destined to support 
them. Montgomery, after maintaining his poet till 
Ids ammimitiou was expended, was forced to abandon 
Powick Bridge in disorder ; and the protector, hav- 
ing at the same time overpowered the equally gal- 
lant defence offered by Pitscottie and his handful of 
men, threw his column over the Severn, to strengthen 
the right flank of the pursuers. Leaving Mout- 
gomeiy in full retreat towards the city, and bidding 
" the Lord of Hosts to go with " hia victorious de- 
tachment, Cromwell returned to his original post at 
Ked Hill and Perry Wood, where his presence gave 
the signal for a redoubled cannonade on the fort 
royal and neighbouring outposts. 

The king, harassed by the superiority of the 
enemy's artillery, and perceiving himself wedged into 
a dangerously narrow space by the retreat of Mont- 
gomery, boldly marched out to attack Cromwell in 
hiB intrencbments, with the Highlanders and hia 
best infantry, seconded by the English cavaliers. 
So resolute was the onset of the royaliats, led by 
Charles in person, that the republicans at first gave 
way before them, abandoning a part of their cannon. 
" One hour of Montrose," at the head of the 3000 
horse whom a few minutes might have brought to 
the charge, had perhaps retrieved the fortune of the 

40 DIARY. 

day; but Lesley, who commanded tliis important 
force, induced either by treachery or distrust, kept 
them stationary in the rear, until the infantry, hav- 
ing expended their ammunition, and being reduced 
to fight with the but-ends of their muskets, gave 
way before the reserves poured in by the protector, 
and fell back into the city with the loss of their 
best leaders. The Duke of Hamilton and Sir John 
Douglas were both mortally wounded ; and Sir 
Alexander Forbes, disabled by a shot through both 
his legs, was taken prisoner. 

While the republicans, who followed closely on 
the rear of the routed infantry, were storming the 
fort royal near Sidbury Gate, the king, finding his 
entrance on horseback obstructed by the overturn 
of an ammunition waggon, got into the city on 
foot ; and putting oflf his heavy armour, rode up 
and down the streets on a fresh horse, calling the 
officers and men by their names, and in vain urging 
Lesley and his cavalry to face the enemy for the 
first time. " I had rather,*' said he, " that you would 
shoot me, than keep me alive to see the sad con- 
sequences of this fatal day." In the mean time, 
however. General Dalyell's brigade, stationed at St 
John's, had laid down their arms,* after a faint 

* It appears from the king's letter " to Tom Dalyell," dated 
Cologne, 1654:, in Lord Hailes's Collection, that this general 

DIARY. 41 

resistance, before the rcpublicao column on the 
western bank of the Severn, and the l^attle was 
now confined to the city, which the enemy began . 
to enter on all aides. Por some time an unequal 
contest was kept up, wherever the royal forces 
could be drawn to a head. Lord Rothes and Sir 
William Hamilton maintained the Castle Hill until 
fair conditions of surrender were offered to them, and 
a body of English defended the town-hall as long 
as it was tenable ; while Lord Cleveland, Colonel 

enjoyed hia esteem and confidence Bubsequetitly to the battle of 
Worcester. Daljell's ultra-loyalty and desperate Viiluur are, 
l>eaides, eo well kuown, ns to render it )i necessary inference that 
he was not seconded by his men ; which in some degree cleat's 
the othcririae inexplicable conduct of Lesley, a person certaiuly 
not suspected of cowardice. TUe probability is that many 
among the Scottish army, who would have fought ivith spirit in 
the defence of their own country, considered the English expe- 
dition OS a hopeless act of desperation on the part of the young 
king ; a conclusion which the scanty muster on the I'itchcruft 
would confirm in the minds of the beet informed. It is but fair. 
therefore, to infer that Lesley, who apjtears from the first to have 
despaired of the success of the Worcester campaign, was better 
acquainted with Uie disaffection of his Covenanters than lie chose 
to confess, and distrusting their efficiency in a pitched battle, 
det«nniuod on reserving the horse unbroken, to coTcr the king's 
retreat upon his resources in Scotland ; a measure which was 
frustrated by Charles's natural indignation and mistrust, and 
wiiich would in all probability have failed. Vuletic quantum mht. 
His known character for caution renders this as natural a solution 
as treachery or joalouny of Middleton. 

42 DIARY. 

Wogan,* Major Carlis, and other royalist gentle- 
men, rallpng around them a few resolute troopers, 
made repeated and destructive charges on the plun- 

* This was probably the Wogan immortalised by the beau- 
tiful verses in Waverley. According to Clarendon, he was pro- 
moted early in life to the command of Ormond's guards, after 
his accession to the royalist cause on the death of Charles I., 
which probably would have given him a rank superior to his 
commission of captain of horse under Ireton. And as far as 
appears from the order of dates and circumstances in the His- 
tory of the Rebellion, the abortive attempt of Glencaim and 
Middleton, chiefly marked by Wogan's daring exploit and 
death, must have taken place subsequently to the battle of 

" The noble Wogan, who from France had, by the way of 
Durham and Barwick, and through a fayer in open day, 
marched into Scotland, and had joyned with those Scotch 
Royalists, and done excellent service in beating up of quarters 
and attempting them in all their marchings and advances, 
came now at last to his end. Providence having reserved this 
honorable destiny for him, that he alone of all the English of 
note should fall in his Majesty's last quarrel in the kingdom of 
Scotland, the manner thus : Being abroad with a party of some 
60 English, he met with Capt. Elsenore's lieutenant, ranging 
upon the same adventure with some more than his number 
near Drummond and Weems, and fell upon him, and after a sharp 
and stout conflict (for they were armed with back and brest, 
and were veterane blades, and never fled before) routed them, 
but was wounded himself with a tuck, whereof, not long after, he 
died, and was buried in great state and lamentation with a 
military funeral in the Chiu-ch of Kenmore ; and Capt. Ker, a 
valiant Scot, was killed with him. The said lieutenant was 
killed also upon the place, with 30 of the men, to accompany 
the fate of the noble person, so that he fell not unrevenged. 

dering parties of the enemy, " fillin g the streets with 
the bodies of horses and men." • Aljout fifty of this 
sacred battalion, with Wogan at their head, after 
effectually covering the king's retreat, joined him 
at six in the evening at Barbon's Bridge, abont a 
mile out of the town.t Here Charles, surveying 
the still unbroken appearance of Lesley's horse, who 
bad taken httle or no share in the struggle, faced 
about, and meditated a fresh charge, to retrieve the 
fortune of the day. From this hazardous step, how- 
ever, he was soon dissuaded by Buckingham and his 

Great iudiguatiua tiicre woe against Roljinaon tlie surgeon tlmt 
drest him, for his neglect of bim, Uie Earl of Athol having 
threatened to kill him ; go dearly wob this hero beloved by that 
nation who coDstantly envied the worth of gallantry of onra. 
And here we muBt leave him till some grateful learned MuBe 
rfiall fiing the honorable atchievementa and moat laudable high 
actions of this famous and renowned Captain." — Chronicle of the 
latt intettine iVar, by James Ilcatb, Gent., aecond edition, small 
folio, IC76 ; with a Continualion to that date by J. P., p. 355. 

From the same work it appears that Wogan fii-st went over 
to the king during Middleton's expedition from Scotland. He 
had subBcqiieDtly distinguished himself under Ormond at Bagot- 
Rath, and also against Cromwell in persou, whom ho is said 
(p. 215) to have baffled by his gallantry at Duncannon, Colo- 
nel Zaney took bim prisoner in an UDSuuceesfiil attempt on 
Poaaoge Fort ; but how he escaped, and was again in arms, is not 
meutjcdied. The dates in this book are, generally, very con- 
fuaed— R. H. B. 

• rrisoner at Chester's letter, 

t Sc« BoKobet. The Letter from Cbester states, that they 
d at bay in the town till midnight, 

44j diary. 

more faithful adherents, who represented that the 
infantry, on whom the principal struggle and loss 
had fallen, were nearly annihilated,* and that Les- 
ley's horse, who had already begun to show symp- 
toms of mutiny and desertion, could only be kept 
to their ranks in a retrograde movement. Nothing, 
therefore, now remained but the alternative of escape : 
the question was, in what direction this could best 
be accomplished. The first impulse of the king was 
to take refuge in London ; but finding himself sup- 
ported in this project by none excepting Lord Wil- 
mot, he decided on retreating to the northward. 
Accordingly, having separated himself from the 
main body of horse, and the crowd of stragglers 
who embarrassed their retreat, Charles, accom- 
panied by about sixty of his most trusty adherents, 
rode oflF on the road to Kidderminster. At Kinver 
Heath, five or six miles from the latter town, they 
first came to a halt, finding that the local knowledge 
of their guide began to fail him in the dusk of the 
evening ; and, after a short consultation, determined 
on escorting the king to Lord Derby's former place 
of refuge at Boscobel House, whither Mr Charles 
Giffard undertook to conduct them. The most im- 
mediate danger was apprehended at Stourbridge, 

* D*Orl^ns states that 3000 men were killed and 5000 

where a troop of the enemy's horse were stationed : 
by dint, however, of extreme caution, they contrived 
to pass through this place about midnight, without 
giving the alarm, and to obtain some refreshment for 
the king at a house on the other side of the town. 
From hence they proceeded to White Ladies, a house 
belonging to the Giffard family, wliich they reached 
by break of day, bringing the kijig'a horse, by way 
of precaution, into the hall Here news was brought 
to him that Lesley's cavalry had mllied in full force 
on the heath near Tong Castle, and it was suggested 
to the king to join this force, with a view of insuring 
his retreat into Scotland. This advice Charles ab- 
solutely rejected, indignant at their recent conduct, 
and "knowing," in his own words, "that men who had 
deserted him when they were in good order, would 
never stand to him when they had been Ijeaten : " 
an opinion which the event fully justified. Having 
taken his resolution to consult his safety alone, he 
was accordingly recommended by Mr Giffard to the 
good offices of his retainers, Richard and William 
Penderel, whose fidelity Lord Derby had already 
experienced during his temporary shelter. Being 
divested of hia buff coat, his George,* and other 
ornaments, and disguised in a leathern doublet and 

• in Zouah's Life ft/ WnJion the curious circimistances as fo 
tlio proicrvatiou of this orntLinetit are spoken of. Blotmt, how- 
ever, has been suffioieutly minuto on the subject. 

46 DIARY. 

woodman's suit belonging to these honest yeomen, 
the king parted from his devoted band of followers, 
" who took leave of him,'' says the narrative, " with 
sad hearts, but hearty prayers ; " Lord Derby espe- 
cially commending him to the good faith of his 
former host. Under the guidance of the brothers, 
Charles quitted White Ladies by a back door, it 
being now broad day, and took refuge in a wood 
called Spring Coppice, on the Boscobel demesne. 
The noblemen and gentlemen who had accompanied 
him, wishing of their own accord to remain in 
ignorance of the place of his retreat, " because 
they knew not what they might be forced to con- 
fess," rode off with the intention of joining Lesley's 
horse on the northern road. In this attempt Lord 
Derby and most of the rest were taken prisoners 
by the enemy ; but the Duke of Buckingham, Lord 
Leviston, and a few more, escaped in different 
directions, and, after a series of vicissitudes, ulti- 
mately effected their passage into France. The 
horse under Lesley, as inefficient in retreat as in 
battle, were shortly dispersed by a comparatively 
trifling force of republican cavalry, and destroyed 
or captured in detail by the enemy's scouts and the 
peasantry of the northern counties. 

In the mean time the king, and Lord Wilmot, 
who remained in the immediate neighbourhood, in 
the hope of rendering him some assistance, enjoyed 


comparative security under the protection of the 
Penderel family. This loyal brotherhood bad for- 
merly consisted of mx. George and Thomas, the 
latter of whom fell at Edgebill, had served in the 
army of Charles I. At the time of the battle of 
Worcester, the five survivors were living as tenants 
of the Giffard family, on the demesnes of Boscobel 
and White Ladies, then annexed to the principal 
mansion of Chillington. William Penderel resided 
with his wife in Boscobel House, Richard with his 
mother at llobbal Grange, Humphry at the mill of 
White Ladies, and John and George in neighbour- 
ing cottages, occupying small portions of land, in 
payment of theh- services as woodmen. Having 
deposited Lord Wilmot at Mr Huntbach's bouse at 
BrinaFord, John Penderel instantly proceeded to 
Wolverhampton, to secure him some more pei-ma- 
nent hiding-place. Returning from his unsuccessful 
errand, he met Mr Hodleston, a Catholic priest 
residing with llr Whitgreave at Moseley Hall, in 
the vicinity of the town, and in the habit of visit- 
ing White Ladies ; to whom he communicated the 
first news of the event of the battle, and the 
situation of his guest. " Would Mr Whitgreave," 
said he, " undertake to secure him V "I will take 
yon to him, and you shall see," was the answer. 
Mr flTiitgreave, who, as well as Hodleston, had 
ser\-ed in the army of Charles 1., lost no time in 

48 DIARY. 

waiting on Lord Wilmot, whom he appointed to 
receive into his house at midnight. 

While this was passing, the situation of the 
fugitive king in Spring Coppice was as comfortless 
as fortune could well have devised to " physic 
pomp.'' After a day spent in battle, and a night 
in flight, the morning of the 4th of September 
found Charles a solitary fugitive, seeking a shelter, 
like a hunted animal, from the inclemency of the 
weather and the fury of his pursuers, whose distant 
alarms alone interrupted his leisure for bitter reflec- 
tions. Part of his discomforts was soon removed 
by the care of Richard Penderel, who brought from 
the house of Yates, his brother-in-law, a blanket to 
serve as a seat on the wet ground, attended by the 
good-wife Yates, with a mess of butter, milk, and 
eggs, which she had hastily prepared. Being tole- 
rably refreshed, and cheered by the assurances of 
the good woman, " that she would rather die than 
discover him," Charles passed the rest of the day 
couched on his blanket at the foot of a tree. During 
the whole morning the rain, which only fell partially 
elsewhere, poured down incessantly in Spring Cop- 
pice, a circumstance singular enough, and one which 
diverted the attention of the pursuers from the 
king's hiding-place. At the fall of night, Charles, 
having supped and completed his rustic disguise at 
Hobbal Grange, the house of Eichard Penderel, ac- 

Chart of CMAiniuffis m'?** Jouhhef. 

S jLi. OP 



Abbots /M-f'yA 



CAftif Carj- ^ 



companied the latter, with the iutention of crossiug 
the Severn at Madeley, and seeking a refuge among 
the loyalieta of Wales, from which quarter it was 
judged that he might escape to France with the 
least suspicion. At Evelin Mill they were chal- 
lenged in the dark by the miller, who, unknown to 
Penderel, was at that moment entertaining a party 
of royalist fugitives in his house. Little dreaming 
of the real character of this honest fellow, who, 
equally suspicious on his own part, rushed boldly 
out to seize the supposed roundhead spies, the king 
and Penderel ran precipitately off, and soou escaped 
the miller's pursuit. At midnight they reached the 
house of Mr Wolfe, a royalist gentleman residing at 
Madeley, about seven miles from Boscobel ; whom 
they found alai-med for the safety of his son (then 
a prisoner at Shrewsbury), and indisposed, as he 
declared, to risk his own safety for any one less 
than the king. In this dilemma, Penderel judged 
it best to disclose the real quahty of his guest, who, 
though startled at first by this bold step, found no 
reason to repent the confidence placed in the old 
cavalier. Every attention was instantly paid to the 
king's wants ; and as the hiding-places belonging to 
the house had been discovered on former occasions, 
it was thoixght most prudent to provide him with a 
shelter in the bam, among a heap of straw. 

Meantime Lord Wilmot, under the guidance of 

50 DIARY. 

Mr Huntbach, reached Moseley Hall a little after 
midnight, having left his horses at Brinsford for 
security, and was conducted by Mr Whitgreave to 
the priest's hiding-place, then a necessary appendage 
to a Catholic gentleman's house. " I would give a 
world," said the faithful nobleman, his mind revert- 
ing to the king's precarious condition, " that my 
friend were here." Who this friend was, he had not 
thought it prudent as yet to reveal to his host. 

Friday, Sept 5. — During the rest of the pre- 
vious night, and the whole of this day, the king, 
completely exhausted by the previous forty-eight 
hours of toil and watching, enjoyed his humble 
shelter in Mr Wolfe's bam. In the evening, as if 
to reward the good faith of the old royalist, young 
Wolfe imexpectedly returned from his captivity, 
in time to deliberate with his father and Penderel 
as to the fittest course for their guest to pursue. 
It appeared that two companies of militia were 
stationed in the town of Madeley, besides outposts, 
who had seized on the bridges and boats on the 
Severn adjoining, and whose vigilance rendered any 
secret passage of that river impracticable. Accord- 
ingly, an hour before midnight, Charles returned to 
Boscobel under the guidance of Penderel, Mrs Wolfe 
having completed his disguise by staining his face 
and hands " of a reeky colour," with walnut leaves. 
To evade the formidable miller of Evelin, they 

judged it best to ford a small stream, where Charles, 
being the best swimmer of the two, acted as the 

During this day Lord Wilmot, tLrough the acti- 
vity of John Penderel, had found means of communi- 
cation with Colonel Lane of Bcntley Hall, a known 
and sure loyalist, who towards the evening waited 
on that nobleman with the profler of his house and 
services. It was determined that Mrs Jane Lane, 
sister to thia gentleman, who \vm on the point of 
setting out on a visit to her friend, Mrs Norton of 
Abbot«leigh, near Bristol, under a pass available 
for herself and one male attendant, should convey 
Wilmot, disguised in that capacity, to the point in 

Saturday, Sept. G. — About five in the morning, 
Charles and his guide arrived at Boscobel, hearing 
at John Pendorel's house, in their way, the news 
that Lord Wilmot had found an asylum at Moseley 
Hall, about eight miles distant, and that Major 
Carlis, the hero of Worcester (who, as Blouut states, 
" had seen the last man killed thei-e"), had taken 
refuge in Boscobel Wood, judging his paternal resi- 
dence of Brom Hall, in the neighbourhood, an 
unsafe retreat. After a hasty refreshment, the kijig 
and Carlis concealed themselves in a large and bushy 
pollard oak, about a furlong or less on the south- 
east Bide of Boscoljel House, and commanding rather 

52 DIARY. 

a more open view than the trees which surrounded 
it. Here they remained during the day, the king 
enjoying intervals of dozing on a cushion which the 
Pend^ had provided, hif head resti-g on Carlia's 
lap. The circumstances of this crisis appear to have 
made a very distinct impression on Charles's recol- 
lection. Concealed as lie was within a small dis- 
tance of the ground, the slightest motion or noise 
must have betrayed him to the patrols of the 
enemy, whom lie every now and then discovered 
searching closely in the neighbouring covert, as he 
ventured to peep through the low, close branches of 
his asylum. Evening, however, put an end to this 
more imminent danger, and allowed him to enjoy a 
substantial supper in Boscobel House, prepared by 
the good-wife, Joan PendereL For greater security, 
a pallet was made up for him in the small closet 
already described as Lord Derby's hiding-place. In 
this confined space, about five feet square, Charles, 
at some inconvenience to his limbs, passed an undis- 
turbed night. This same evening, Lord Wilmot, 
concluding jfrom John Penderel's last report that the 
king had passed the Severn, removed from Moseley 
to Bentley Hall, at Colonel Lane's invitation. 

Sunday, Sept 7. — This morning Major Carlis, a 
person fertile in the expedients of a campaign, was 
early on the alert to provide, without suspicion, a 
substantial breakfast for his master, whose return- 

ing appetite had exhausted the good-wife Joan's* 
scanty resources. Accompanied by William Fen- 
derel, who, with his brothers, had been on the 
watch during the night, to prevent surprise from 
the enemy's scouts, the major repaired soon after 
daybreak to a neighbouring sheepfold, and stuck 
with his dagger the best wether, which Penderel 
brought home on his back. In the mean time 
Charles had also risen at an early hour, to reconnoitre 
the road from Tong to Brewood, from the window 

• The identity of " Dame Joaue" has been unaccountably 
disputed by the ourioua. The tombatone at Wliite Ladies, 
iuBcribcd with her quaint epitnph, which D. Parkes discovered 
in the year 1792, has disappearedj and ia probably in the close 
keeping of some neighbouring antiquary, Parkea merely meu- 
tions {GintlcTnan't Magazine, LXIL) that he bad discovered 
Dame Joane'a tombstone, euppoaing, doubtless, that his readers 
must have been aware of her being twice mentioned by Blount 
aa the good-wife of Boscobel, William Penderel's abode. She 
has, however, been mistaken by some for his sister. Frances 
Yatea, and by others for his mother, who lived with her son 
Richard at Uobbal Grange ; and in tho following Number 
(LXIII.) of the GmllemaiCt Mayazlite, some anile ally of the 
worthy Sylvaniis, after professing himself in the dark as to Dame 
Junne's surname, repeats the ubiquitous legend of the spit, on 
the niithority of " an ancient person of veracity lately deceased," 
who had the rclatiun from her grandmother, as having happened 
at Boacobel. The " severe blow on the hack," which the king, 
it Boems, received from Joan, made but little impression on his 
y ; and Blount identifies the adventure as having hap- 
) Mr Tombs's kitchen, at Long Maratun, under circum- 
«bighlycrcditable to Charles's ready tact. 

54 DIARY. 

of the staircase adjoining his closet ; and was pre- 
pared to partake amply of this new stock of provi- 
sion, in the preparation of which, as he afterwards 
laughingly remarked, he performed the part of 
master-cook By this time the alarm had extended 
itself to White Ladies, whither the flight of the 
king had been traced ; but no suspicion had as yet 
rested on Boscobel, on account of its lonely situa- 
tion and the poverty of its tenants. During the 
whole of this day, therefore, Charles enjoyed a 
welcome interval of leisure, which he employed 
partly in his devotions, and partly in reading in 
. sttLer.hou« in the ^ Jthin inunlte 
reach of the door which led up the chimney-stack 
to his hiding-place. 

In the course of the afternoon, John Penderel 
had gone to seek Lord Wilmot at Moseley, with 
the intelligence of Charles's failure in the passage 
of the Severn. Perplexed at finding Wilmot de- 
parted since the morning for Bentley Hall, he accom- 
panied Mr Whitgreave in search of that noble- 
man ; and the result of their conference was that 
Wilmot should suspend his purpose of accompany- 
ing Mrs Jane Lane southward, and meet the king 
that night at Moseley. Charles, apprised by even- 
ing of this arrangement through the indefatigable 
messenger, took leave of Carlis, whose farther at- 
tendance might 'lave led to danger in a country 

DIAifY. 65 

where his person was known ; and set out after 
nightfall for Moseley. His body-guai-d cousisttd of 
the five Penderels,* and Yates, their brother-in-!aH', 
all armed with bills and pike-staves, as well as with 
concealed pistols, and determined to defend their 
royal charge at iuiy hazard. The king, not yet 
recovered from his fatigues, complained of the rough 
motion of Humphry Penderel's mill horse, on which 
he rode, surrounded by his defenders. " Can you 
blame the horse, my liege," said the honest miller. 
" to go heavily, when he has the weight of three 
kingdoms on his baekV On reaching Peuford 
Mill, below Cotsall, to which point they had pro- 
ceeded by lone byways, for the greater security 
the party separated ; William, Humphry, and George, 
returning with the horse, while the king, iiccom- 
[>auied by the rest, took the footpath to Moseley. 
After a moment's recollection, Charles called the 

* The print annesed is takeii from out' iu the Bodleiau 
edition of Blounfa SoacoUl, the Bome which has been copied 
accurately od the block marble of Mr Evans's cLiiuDey-piece, in 
the parlour uf Boscobel House. The gigantic Ggurf, which 
aoarly overtops Charlee u])ou hiu mill horse, und strongly 
rewmbleti the figure of " Mr Grwithcart" in the early editiona 
of Butiyon (save in a uouveuieiit obliquity of Tieiou, whicli 
umibles him to recouuoitrc front and rear at the same timi'), w 
prohobly meant for Wiiliam Penderel, whom Hodlostou, in 
his note on the king's narrative, dciicribca as m tall a miiu that 
hie broocbea hung below the kneva of Charles, himself ii person 
above tlie middle sizu, 

56 DIARY. 

three brothers back, and gave them his hand to 
kiss. " My troubles/' said he, " make me forget 
myself ; I thank you all/' A walk of about three 
miles jfrom this point brought him, without farther 
interruption, to Moseley, where Mr Whitgreave was 
at his appointed post in an adjoining field. The 
king, whom his host had not been able to distin- 
guish from the rest in the darkness of a rainy night, 
made for a light in Lord Wilmot's chamber, while 
Whitgreave conducted the Penderels to his buttery, 
having sent all his servants to bed at an early hour, 
as a precaution. A summons from Father Hodle- 
ston brought him up to Lord Wilmot's room, whom 
he found talking at a cupboard's head with a squalid 
figure in a greasy hat, and a woodman's green frock 
over a leathern doublet. " This gentleman under 
disguise, whom I have hitherto concealed," said 
Wilmot, not knowing that John Penderel had 
already disclosed the quality of the new guest, " is 
both your master, mine, and the master of us all, to 
whom we all owe our duty and allegiance." Whit- 
greave knelt down to kiss the king's hand, who 
raised him with warm assurances of his own trust 
in his zeal and loyalty, and requested to see the 
place of concealment. Praising its security, he 
returned to the fireside, where Whitgreave and 
Hodleston washed his blistered feet, and changed 
his coarse shirt and wet clothes for more comfort- 
able attire. Having taken some biscuit and sack. 


C'liarles soou resuinecl the cheerfulness which had 
abandoned him durmg the night-march, and said, 
" that if it would please Almighty God to send him 
once more an army of 10,000 good and loyal 
soldiers -and subjects, he feared not to expell all 
the rogues forth from hia kiugdom." After an hour's 
conversation, he retired to bed about daybreak; and 
Lord Wiknot took this opportunity to urge Mr 
Whitgreave, that in case of any unavoidable dis- 
covery, he would deliver him up to the enemy, aa 
the moat likely means of diverting their att-ention 
from his sovereign. 

Monday, Sept. 8. — This day Boscobel House was 
searched narrowly by two parties of republicans, 
one of which plundered the family of their small 
stock of provisions, and whatever else was portable, 
and threatened the life of "William Penderel, from 
whom, however, they could extract no intelligence. 
About this time Major Carlis, by the aid of an old 
friend at Wolverhampton, obtained a pass under a 
disguised name, which landed him safely in France, 
where he first brought the Princess of Orange the 
news of her brother's safety. Meanwhile Charles 
enjoyed the effects of the pmdent precautions which 
had been taken for his security. All the servants, 
excepting a Catholic cook-maid, had been sent out 
of the house on different errands ; and Father 
Hodleston, imder pretence of persoiial apprehension 
I Catholic priest, set hia pupUa, Palyn, Reynolds, 

58 DIARY. 

and Sir John Preston, to watch from the garret 
window the approach of any rebel parties.* 

Tuesday, Sept. 9. — This morning the republicans, 
having traced the king's route as far as White 
Ladies, by information extorted from a captured 
royalist, despatched a party thither in great haste, 
who threatened the family with their pistols, and 
broke down the wainscotiiig in search of the royal 
fugitive. They were, however, baffled by the self- 
possession of Mr George Giffard and Mrs Andrew 
(probably the housekeeper) ; and returning with the 
conviction that their intelligence was false, revenged 
themselves, by a severe beating, on their informant. 
The king, in the mean time, passed this day in con- 
versation with Mr Whitgreave and his mother,! and 
in the perusal of TurherviWs Catechism X — his prin- 

* Young Sir John, as appears from the Whitgreave MSS., 
was then with his tutor Mr Hodleston, a guest at Moseley, under 
the assumed name of Jackson, to protect him from the puritans, 
who had sequestered his father's property ; and Mr Whitgreave 
had taken the opportunity of placing his two nephews, Palyn 
and Reynolds, under Hodleston's care. It might, without this 
explanation, seem strange that a seminary should be established 
under the roof of a man of fortune. 

t See Pedigree of Robert Whitgreave of Burton, &c., in Ap- 
pendix (II.) 

X Either Henry Turberville's Manual of Controversies, or his 
Abridgment of Christian Doctrine, both published at Douay, 
about this period— probably the latter, which was also called 
Thtrberviirs Catechism, 

nipal post being in a little closet over the porch, 
which his host used as a study. From hence he 
watched the road from Wolverhampton, along which 
the wounded aud stragglere from his faithful in- 
fantry were continually passing ; many of whom 
came to the door directly under his window to beg 
relief No enemy, however, as yet appeared, till 
towards the evening, when the alarm was suddenly 
given that a imrty of republicans were at hand. 
Charles, wlio was taking some rest in the parloui' 
below, instantly retreated up-stairs to his hiding- 
place — a closet at the back of the lai-gest bedroom, 
communicating through a false floor with a door of 
exit which opened into the brew-house chimney. 
Whitgreave meantime went calmly to his open door 
to meet the soldiers, who, under the command of a 
man called " Southall the priest-catcher," were on 
the alert to recover the lost traces of the king from 
White Ladies, not without suspicion that the master 
of Moseley himself was a fugitive from the field of 
Worcester. The latter, however, by his ease and 
self-possession, convinced them that their graver 
surmises were equally groundless with the charge 
relating to himself, which his ill state of health 
plainly rebutted ; and the pai-ty left the house 
quietly. In the dusk of the evening the king 
prepared for his departure to Bentley Hall, from 
whence it had been settled that he should pi-oceed 

60 DIARY. 

on the morrow, as the servant in attendance on 
Mrs Jane Lane. Before setting out, however, he 
was mindful to supply the family with such refer- 
ences and letters of credit to his friends in London, 
as might secure their safe embarkation, in case of 
any suspicion falling on their conduct. They on 
their part were equally careful to furnish him with 
more than the necessary means and appliances for 
his short evening's journey, the good old lady insist- 
ing on fiUing his pockets with sweetmeats, and 
Hodleston pressing on him the loan of a warm 
cloak. Having delivered their charge to Colonel 
Lane, who was waiting with his horses in the 
orchard, Whitgreave and Hodleston kneeled to kiss 
his hand, and oflFer up their prayers for his preser- 

Wednesday^ Sept 1 0. — ^At break of day the king, 
who had reached Bentley Hall soon after midnight, 
was called up by Colonel Lane, who supplied him 
with the suit of ordinary grey cloth which was to 
convert him from Will Jones the woodman of Bos- 
cobel, into William Jackson, a neighbouring tenant's 
son. Being duly equipped, and tutored in the stable 
by the colonel, as to his part of an accompUshed 
serving-man, the new-made domestic rode up, hat 
in hand, to the front door, upon the double horse 
provided for Jane Lane, to whom alone, except- 
ing his relative, Mr Lascelles, a royalist officer, the 

DIARY. 61 

colonel had communicated the secret. Whether 
from anxiety to perform his office well, or want 
of adroitness, the king, much to the amusement of 
old Mra Lane, offered the wrong band in assisting 
his fair conductress to mount behind him. When 
the party, consisting of Charles, Mrs Jane Lane, Mr 
Lascelles, and Mrs Petre,* the colonel's sister, who 
rode on another double horse behind her husband, 
had mounted and set off, Colonel Lane and Lord 
Wilmot, provided with hawlta and spaniels to mask 
their real purpose, followed by another parallel route, 
to watch and protect their friends in case of emer- 
gency, proposing to sleep at the house of a royiilist 
acquaintance in Warwickshixe.l" In about two hours, 
Mrs Lane's horse having lost a shoe, the king saw it 
replaced at the next forge, where he chattered freely 
with the smith aa to the news of the day, and the 
probable capture of " that rogue, Charles Stuart," 
who, as Will Jacl^on remarked (uot perhaps with- 
out some secret recollection of Lesley's conduct), 
" deserved hanging more than all the rest, for bring- 
ing in the Scots." At Wotton, within two or three 
miles of Stratford, they suddenly caught sight of a 
troop of cavalry halting to refresh their horses. Mr 
Petre, not wishiug to risk, in the company of his 

• Withy Lane ; mwried Mr Peters, or Petre, of Bucka. 
the Lane pedigrco, in AppeodU. 

t Sir Clement Fisher, of Packington Hall. 


62 DIARY. 

wife, the rough treatment which he had met with 
from similar parties, turned back in spite of Jane 
Lane's remonstrances, and entered Stratford in an- 
other direction. The king, however, by no means 
disconcerted, rode leisurely through the midst of 
them without attracting notice. Having soon after- 
wards separated from Mr and Mrs Petre, who were 
travelling to their seat in Buckinghamshire, the 
royal party slept at Mr Tombs's of Long Marston, 
four miles beyond Stratford. Here Charles, being 
desired by the cook to wind up the jack, provoked 
her anger by his awkwardness. * " I am a poor 
tenant's son of Colonel Lane's in Staffordshire," 
answered he, with readiness : " we seldom have 
roast meat, but when we have, we don't make use 
of a jack." 

Thursday, Sept. 11. — No particular event oc- 
curred on this day. The party travelled by the 
route of Camden, and slept at Cirencester, the 
king still performing the part of William Jackson 
without suspicion. At night he retired to a truckle- 

* This anecdote has received many versions, and is probably 
current in different shapes in every village which local tradition 
marks as a stage in the king's route. Sec Gentleman's Magazine, 
LXIII. ; also Major Bemardi's AiUcbioffraphy, quoted in the 
Retroapectim Review, No. 27. Blount, whose accuracy seems 
laborious, and whom I have in no instance caught tripping, 
has probably given the true account. 

bed in Mr Lascelles's room, ■which the latter, as soon 
as they were alone, exchanged for his own. 

Friday, Sept. 12. — This evening they reached 
Abboteleigh, the residence of Mr Norton,* three 
rniles beyond the town of Bristol, having travelled 
in all thu-ty miles. Tholigh the honour and loyalty 
of Mr and Mi-s Norton were undoubted, yet, in the 
fear least any excess of attention on their parts to 
the supposed yeoman's son might excite suspicion, 
Jane Lane concealed his real rank from them. In 
order, however, to secure comfort and privacy to 
the king, she recommended him to the care of Pope, 
the butler, as a [Mor tenant's son just recovering 
from the ague, — a charact-er which the harassed 
appearance of Charles enabled him to support con- 
sistently. Pope, accordingly, gave him a private 
room, where he supped alone. 

Satvrday, Sept. 13. — The king, with an appetite 
which bore out his character as a convalescent, rose 
early, and repaired to the buttery, where several 
guests were assemhlctl, and ale and sack were not 
wanting as the concomitants to a solid breakfast. 
One of these persons professed himself to have 
served in Charles's own regiment at the battle of 

• Often mentioned as Sir Oeoi^ Norton. His title pro- 
bably was aubeeqnent to tboBe event.a, whether by iuberitance 
or crcfltirm. 

64 DIARY. 

Worcester, and described minutely the particulars 
of the action to his circle of auditors. The king, 
he said, was a man taller by three fingers than 
Jackson ; who, nevertheless, feeUng the comparison 
come rather home to his own person, took the first 
opportunity of leaving the buttery. But Pope, who 
had been a member of his household when Prince of 
Wales, and had afterwards served in Charles the 
First's army, and whose recollections were probably 
awakened by the conversation which had just oc- 
curred, communicated, in the course of the day, his 
suspicions to Miss Lane. After consulting with his 
protectress and Mr Lascelles, the latter of whom 
assured him that he would trust his own life to 
the tried fidelity of this domestic, the king wisely 
decided on confiding in him. Accordingly, Pope 
was introduced to Charles, whose hand he kissed 
as his sworn liegeman, and during the rest of the 
king's stay proved invaluable from his honesty and 

This night Lord Wilmot arrived in the neigh- 
bourhood, from Mr Winter's of Dirham, in Glouces- 
tershire, and was met by Pope, whose precaution 
prevented him from coming on to Abbotsleigh, 
where he would have been recognised by several 

From Saturday 13th to Tuesday 16th, the king 
remained in the house of Mr Norton, where, under 

DIARY. 66 

pretext of recovering from his ague, he enjoyed as 
much privacy as he thought fit, feeling himself suffi- 
ciently free from apprehension to join one day the 
lookers-on at a game of fives. Being apprised that 
no safe opportunity for embarkation from Bristol 
oflfered itself, he resolved, by the advice of Lord 
Wilmot and his other faithful friends, to make his 
next asylum at Colonel Wyndham's house at Trent, 
in Somerset, a gentleman personally known to him- 
self, whose family had fought and suffered in his 
father s cause, and had some of them been connected 
with the royal household.* On Monday the 15th, 
however, the eve of their proposed departure, Mrs 
Norton was suddenly taken ill, and miscarried of a 
dead child ; and Jane Lane, distressed as we may 

* Colonel Wyndham had served iu the civil wars, with the 
rank of governor of D mister Castle. Charles mentions him in 
his narrative as " Frank Wyndham, the knight marshal's brother, 
my okl aquaintance, and a very honest man." Of the knight 
marshal, Collinson speaks as follows [I/iM. >S</??i.] : *' Edmund, 
eldest son of Sir Thomas Wyndham of Kentsford, was by his 
father sent to serve in the Low Country wars. In 1G41 he was 
one of the first that served in the western army, as colonel ; 
and was governor of Bridgwater at the time it was besieged 
and taken by Fairfax. He followed Charles IF. to France, and 
remained there till the Restoration, when he was made knight 
marshal of England, in which office he died, 1G82. His lady, 
Christabell^, was wet-nurse to Charles II., and one of the most 
beautiful women of her time." — See Pedigree of the Wyndham 
Family, in Appendix (III.) 


66 DIARY. 

suppose at her friend's critical situation, was also 
in no small degree perplexed to find an excuse for 
leaving her at such a time. The invention of 
Charles here suggested a ready expedient. A 
letter, purporting to announce the dangerous ill- 
ness of the elder Mr Lane, was prepared and 
delivered to his daughter at supper-time by Pope ; 
and so well did the young lady act her part, as 
fully to impose upon the company present, and 
justify her sudden departure in their eyes. 

Tuesday y Sept. 16. — This morning the king, 
attended by his former companions, set ofi" for 
Trent House, whither it was settled that Wilmot 
should precede him, to notify his expected arrival 
to Colonel Wyndham, who knew nothing of what 
had occurred since the battle of Worcester. Ac- 
cordingly, while the rest of the royal party slept 
at Castle Cary, Lord Wilmot rode on that night 
to Trent ; and being announced to Colonel Wynd- 
ham as Mr Morton, met with a cordial reception 
from that gentleman, who recognised his person im- 
mediately, and joyfully prepared to receive Charles 
on the morrow. 

Wednesday, Sept. 17. — While the king and his 
friends were on their route from Castle Cary, 
Colonel Wyndham, in order to multiply the means 
of safety in a neighbourhood full of sectarians, 

DIARY. 67 

communicated the secret to his wife,* Lady Wjud- 
ham his mother, and her niece Juliana Coningsby, 
besides his trusty servant Henry Peters, and two 
female domestics, Eleanor Withers, and Joan Hal- 
senoth, of whose loyalty he felt assured, and whose 
services would be necessary to the king in his pro- 
posed hiding-place. The rest of the servants having 
been dispersed on different pretexts, and Lady Wynd- 
ham's chamber being prepared as Charles's ordinary 
place of retirement, Colonel Wyndham and his lady 
walked out in the fields adjoining their house, in 
expectation of their royal guest. In a short time 
they perceived the approach of a lady, riding be- 
hind a pale and meanly-dressed young man on a 
double horse. " Frank, Frank, how dost thou do ? " 
said the latter, in a cheerful tone ; and Wyndham 
joyfully recognised his sovereign. It was imme- 
diately agreed that the ladies of the family, to avoid 
suspicion, should address Jane Lane during her stay 
as their cousin, and that on the morrow she should 
return homewards with her kinsman, Mr Lascelles. 
Having adjourned to Trent House, the king held a 

* Anne, heiress of the Gerards of Trent House, and authoress 
of the Claustrum Regale ReseroUum, as is supposed by some. 
Collinson, in his HUtory of Somersety attributes the work to a 
sister of the Colonel ; and Watt's BiUiotheca Britannica does not 
clear up the point. 

68 DIARY. 

conversation of much interest with Colonel Wynd- 
ham, on some family circumstances previously un- 
known to him, and which served to strengthen the 
confidence which he already felt in the character of 
his host. It appears that in the year 1636, before 
the breaking out of the civil war. Sir Thomas 
Wjudham, the coloners father, summoned his five 
sons to his chamber a short time previous to his 
death, and discoursed prophetically to them as to 
the alarming signs of the times, and the increasing 
predominance of the republican faction. " My sons,^^ 
said he, "we have hitherto seen serene and quiet 
times ; but now prepare yourself for cloudy and 
troublesome. I command you to honour and obey 
our gracious sovereign, and at all times to adhere 
to the crown ; and though the crown should hang 
on a bush, I charge you forsake it not.*' Three of 
these sons and a grandson, obeying well the dying 
injunctions of their parent, had fallen on the field 
of battle in the cause of the late king ; and Colonel 
Wjudham, who had also served with honour, was 
then a prisoner on his parole. Having repeated 
his assurances of fidelity to the king, Wyndham 
promised the next day to consult Sir John Strang- 
ways, of Melbury, and his two sons, both formerly 
colonels in the royal service, as to the best means of 
arranging his embarkation with secresy. 

Thursday y Sept 18. — This morning Wyndham 

waitL'd on Colonel Giles Strangways, at his father's 
seat in the neighbourhood, and made known to him 
the king's arrival and present predicament, Strang- 
ways, lamenting his want of connections on the 
coast, and his own suBpected condition, which de- 
prived him of the means of actively furthering the 
desired project, intrusted Colonel Wyndham with a 
lai^e sum in gold for the king's use, of which it was 
arrauged that Lord WUmot should take charge, it 
being judged prudent, for obvious reasons, that the 
supi»o8ed groom should retain no more than a few 
shillings at once about his person. 

During this time, and for several succeeding 
dajB, Charles lay closely hid in the house, divid- 
ing his time between Lady WjTidham's chamber, 
which was given up for his use, and a hiding-place 
with which it commimicatcd, contrived in the 
days of the recusant family of the Gerards, ances- 
tors of the colonel's lady. One day hearing a noise 
in the neighbouring churchyard, and sending to 
ascertain the reason, he found that news of his o^-n 
death at the battle of Worcester had been brought 
by a detachment of Cromwell's troops, who were 
returning through the village to their quarters. 
One of them declared he had slain the king with 
his own hand, and showed in confii-mation a bufl- 
coat which he professed to have taken from his 
body. The villagers, mostly fanatics, proceeded to 

70 DIARY. 

show their pious exultation at the news by bonfires 
and tippling ; and concluded the whole by a visit to 
the church to ring out the king's knell, — a compli- 
ment which he heard in his hiding-place with great 
composure, exclaiming only, " Alas, poor people ! " 

All other plans for Charles's escape by sea having 
miscarried, Colonel Wyndham went to Lyme to 
consult Captain EUesdon, a trusty friend, as to the 
means of accomplishing this end, committing, how- 
ever, at present no more than the name of Lord 
Wilmot as the person in danger. EUesdon accord- 
ingly bargained with Limbry, the master of a coast- 
ing vessel, and a tenant of his own, that the latter 
should, for the sum of sixty pounds, to be paid on 
the certified safe delivery of his passengers, convey 
a party of three or four royalist gentlemen by night 
from Charmouth into France.* Next, that a private 
room might be secured at Charmouth without suspi- 
cion, the tide not serving till 11 at night, Henry 
Peters, the trusty valet, aiding his tale by an earnest 
in money and a few glasses of wine, succeeded in 
engaging the hostess of the little inn to promise 
apartments to a runaway bridal party from Devon- 

Monday^ Sept 22. — All precautions being now 

* Ellesdon's memoir says the party was described as Mr 
Payne, a broken merchant, flying from his creditors, with one 
servant accompanying him. 


taken, the royal party proceeded from Trent to 
Charmoutii this day, the king attended by Colonel 
Wyndham as his guide, and riding double before 
Juliana Coningsby, whose aervices were probably 
necessary to peraonate the supposed Devonshire 
bride. Lord Wilmot and Peters accompanied them 
at a convenient distance, in order to avoid suspicion. 
On their route they were met by EUesdon, who re- 
ceived them at a lone house, belonging to his 
brother, among the Iiills, near Charmouth, in order 
to wait for nightfall. Here the king discovered 
his rank to his new protector, and presented him 
with a piece of foreign gold, which he had amused 
himself by boring and stringing during his late 
leisure. At niglit they repaired to Charmouth, 
where Ellesdon took his leave in the full confidence 
that everything had been securely arranged ; an 
assurance which Limbry, shortly after, called to re- 
peat. Hour after hour elapsed, however, without 
the performance of his promise, and the king, with 
Lord Wilmot, sat up during the night in pei-plexity 
and suspense, while Colonel Wyndham and Peters 
kept watch in vain on the beach for Limbry and 
the ship's boat, 

Tuesday, Sept. 23. — At an early hour, Peters was 
despatched to ascertain from Ellesdon the cause of 
the failure. The latter, equally perplexed, advised 
an immediate departure, and the king, with the two 

72 DIARY. 

cousins, set off forthwith for Bridport. The fact 
had been as follows : Limbry, a well-disposed but 
simple person, had gone home at ten to prepare his 
sea-chest and other necessaries for the voyage. His 
wife, whom he had kept till the last moment ignor- 
ant of his intention to sail, sought an explanation of 
this sudden step, and was led by his answer as to 
the nature and remuneration of the service, to con- 
clude that the parties were royalists of rank. In an 
agony of terror, excited by the proclamation of the 
10th of September, she watched her opportunity to 
lock up her husband in his bedroom, where she 
kept him prisoner till it was too late to fulfil his 
engagement. "The more he entreated," says Mrs 
Anne Wyndham, **the more her violent passion 
increased, breaking forth into such clamours and 
lamentations,* that he feared, if he should any 
longer contend, both himself and the gentlemen he 
had promised to transport would be cast away in 
this storm, without ever going to sea." 

At this time, perhaps, the most alarming crisis of 
the king's fate was impending. The port of Lyme 

♦ Ellesdon states that she threatened to give information to 
Captain Macy, and justifies Limbry as to the choice of the 
alternative least dangerous to the king. His account of the 
fruitless attempt made by Limbry, " dogged by " his wife and 
daughters, to effect an explanation with Colonel Wyndham, is 
graphic and amusing. 

DIARY. 73 

swarmed with persons drawn thither by the fair, 
and the coast was beleaguered by a detachment of 
repubUcans, preparing to embark in the expedition 
destined to reduce Guernsey and Jersey, whose head- 
quarters were at Bridport when Charles arrived. 
Here Colonel Wyndham, who began to despair of 
the safety of his charge, asked the king doubtingly 
what they must now do. Unwilling to abandon 
Wihnot, with whom he had appointed a meeting in 
the town, Charles, with prompt decision, rode into 
the yard of the principal inn of Bridport, pushing 
his way with the horses and portmanteaus among 
the crowd of surly troopers who obstructed the 
entrance to the stable. Having, like a practised 
serving-man, made good his point, at the expense 
of some rough language from the soldiers, the king 
was somewhat startled by the observation of the 
hostler, that " surely he had seen his face before." 
Maintaining his countenance perfectly, he drew from 
the man that he had Hved at an inn at Exeter, close 
to the house of a Mr Potter, who had in fact enter- 
tained part of the royal staff during the civil wars. 
" Friend,'' said Charles, " you must have certainly 
seen me then at Mr Potter's, for I served him 
above a year." The hostler, perfectly recognising 
this statement, parted from him with a mutual 
promise that they would drink a pot of beer to- 
gether on the young man's return ; and Charles, 

74 DIARY. 

after talking with equal freedom to the troopers, 
joined his friends on pretence of waiting on them at 
dinner. About 3 o'clock, Lord Wilmot came riding 
up the street with Peters, and catching a sight of 
the party at the window, proceeded to the other 
inn, from whence he despatched Peters to appoint 
a meeting out of the town, and hasten their de- 

Being thus reassembled, the party resolved, as 
the only safe step, to return to Trent by the nearest 
track ; and accordingly, after proceeding a mile or 
two along the Dorchester road, turned on the left 
towards Yeovil. In the mean time, a dangerous 
mischief had been brooding in their rear. The 
hostler at the inn of Charmouth, an old republican 
soldier, had drawn suspicious conclusions from ob- 
serving the horses kept saddled in the stable all the 
previous night, as well as from the frequent visits 
of Colonel Wyndham and Peters to the sea-shore. 
After communicating his thoughts to his mistress, 
who checked him sharply for his officiousness, he 
took Lord Wilmot's horse, which had cast a shoe, to 
the neighbouring forge. Hammet, the blacksmith, 
a shrewd artisan, instantly remarked, "This horse 
has but three shoes, and they were all set in dif- 
ferent counties, and one in AVorcestershire.'' On 
the departure of the king, the hostler lost no time 
in seeking to communicate this hint, and his own 

DIARY. 75 

comments, to Westley, the puritan minister of the 
place, whom he found engaged in family worship. 
Learning, however, afterwards, the state of facts, 
either from Hammet or the hostler, the preacher 
made aU speed to the inn, preparing in his mind 
the most successful mode of entrapping the hostess 
into a confession. " Why, how now, Margaret," 
quoth he, " you are a maid of honour." What 
mean you by that, Mr Parson 1 " rejoined Margaret, 
tartly. " Why, Charles Stuart lay last night at 
your house, and kissed you at his departure ; so 
that now you cannot but be a maid of honour." — 
The woman then (says Ellesdon) began to be very 
angry, and told him he was a scurvy-conditioned 
man to go about to bring her and her house into 
trouble. But, said she, if I thought it was the king, 
as you say it was, I should think the better of my 
lips all the days of my life ; so, Mr Parson, get you 
out of my house, or Fll get those shall kick you 
out." Digesting this rebuff as he might, the min- 
ister accompanied the hostler before a magistrate,* 
who, not seeing, or choosing not to see, any call for 
his own interference, treated the affair lightly. But 
Captain Macy, the republican officer commanding 
the nearest picket, equipped his troop as soon as 

* Perhaps another Justice Inglewood. This part of Ellcs- 
don's memoir is replete with circumstantial, and sometimes 
comic interest. 

76 DIARY. 

the tidings reached him, and galloped off on the 
London road in pursuit of the fugitives. Ere, 
however, they came in sight, the royal party, little 
knowing the jeopardy from which they were escap- 
ing, had taken the road to Yeovil ; and while Macy 
and his men dashed on furiously in the direction of 
Dorchester, reached without molestation a village 
called Broad Windsor. Here Colonel Wyndham, 
who knew the loyal principles of his host, intro- 
duced Lord Wilmot as his brother-in-law, Colonel 
Keymes, a prisoner, like himself, on parole ; and 
procured a lodging for the party in the upper story, 
for the sake of greater caution. Before, however, 
they had been long in the house, about forty soldiers, 
on their way to Jersey, came in unexpectedly to be 
biUeted there for the night. The confusion which 
ensued in the narrow kitchen was presently worse 
confounded by the screams of one of the female 
camp-followers, who was suddenly taken in labour, 
and by the squabble which presently issued between 
the troopers and the parish officers, who came down 
to resist this unwelcome addition to their popula- 
tion. The greater part of the night was consumed 
in this brawl, which, though it effectually deprived 
the king of rest, tended to his security, by occupy- 
ing the attention of the soldiers till the time for 
marching had arrived. 

Wednesday, Sept. 24. — After an early consulta- 

DIARY. 77 

tion with Colonel Wyndham, the king was fuUy 
confirmed in his intention of returning to Trent, 
and there awaiting the result of the projects which 
had been set on foot by his friends for procuring 
his passage from some Sussex seaport ; no hope 
seeming to remain of efiecting it from the Dorset- 
shire coast. To Trent, therefore, they returned the 
same evening, and Charles resumed his station in 
his old hiding-place, where he remained till the 6th 
of October in a state of harassing inaction, rendered 
more precarious by the present condition of afiairs 
in the vicinity. The intelligence of the enemy had 
correctly traced his route to the confines of Dorset- 
shire and Somerset, and Charmouth or its neigh- 
bourhood was confidently assigned by many as the 
place of his concealment. Pursuant to these suspi- 
cions, Pilisdon House, the residence of the colonel's 
uncle. Sir J. Wyndham, underwent a complete 
search, the family being roughly treated, and 
secured under a guard. Similar surmises began 
to extend themselves to Trent House, whither 
Lord Wilmot continued to travel backwards and 
forwards from Salisbury, engaged indefatigably in 
arranging schemes with difierent royalist gentlemen 
for Charles's embarkation. On Sunday the 28th of 
September, a tailor of the village informed Colonel 
Wyndham of the prevailing suspicion that royalist 
refugees were concealed in his house ; on which 

78 . DIARY. 

Lord Wilmot accompanied him openly to church in 
character of his guest and relation, and by this bold 
measure eflfectually blinded the eyes of the puritans, 
who, giving credit to the colonel for conversion to 
their own principles, suspended their domiciliary 
visit. Meantime the strictest measures of con- 
cealment were adopted in Trent House, the king 
generally cooking his meals in his own chamber, 
which partly served to beguile the anxious sus- 
pense of his situation. Nothing of moment oc- 
curred till the 6th of October, save a false alarm 
occasioned by the arrival of a troop of horse at 
Sherborne, whose motions Mrs Wyndham went 
privately to reconnoitre. On the 5th of October, 
it was determined that Charles should move on- 
ward to Hele House, near Amesbury, the seat of Mrs 
Hyde, widow of the Chief Justice's elder brother, 
in order to be nearer to the smaller ports of Sussex, 
where his friends had nearly brought their schemes 
to a happy conclusion. 

Tuesday, October 6. — This morning the king, 
under the guidance of Colonel Phelips of Montacute 
House,* set off on his joiurney, taking an aflfectionate 
leave of the friends who had risked so much in his 
cause. Colonel Wyndham earnestly and repeatedly 

* A distinguished royalist officer, who had been consulted in 
the fiiTSt instance by Colonel Wyndham. Montacute House is in 
the immediate vicinity of Trent. 

DIARY: 79 

pressed to accompany him to the coast, but Charles 
firmly opposed a step which might occasion addi- 
tional risk ; it was, however, judged expedient that 
Juliana Coningsby should occupy the double horse 
as before. At Mere, where they stopped to dine, the 
king was gratified by the loyalty of the host, who, 
after sounding the supposed hobby-groom by the 
cavalier countersign, " Are you a friend to Caesar 1 " 
pledged him to King Charles's health. At night 
they reached Hele House, where good Mrs Hyde, 
aware of the rank of her guest, treated him at supper 
with an embarrassing degree of attention ; and her 
brother, who was not in the secret, was surprised at 
the conversation of one so meanly dressed. 

Wednesday, Oct, 7. — By the advice of Mrs Hyde, 
who perhaps wished to atone for her want of previ- 
ous caution, Charles this morniug practised the same 
doubliog manoeuvre which instinct teaches the hare. 
Having quitted Hele with Colonel Phelips in the 
most open manner, as if to continue his journey, 
he spent the day on the downs in the vicinity of 
Stonehenge, reckoning and re-reckoning its stones, 
in order to beguile the time. When night was 
come. Colonel Phelips proceeded to Salisbury, leav- 
ing Charles at Hele House, where Mrs Hyde and 
her sister received and conducted him to a hiding- 
place similar to that at Trent. For five days more, 
the king lay concealed in his retreat, waited upon 

80 DIARY. 

entirely by these ladies, who communicated the 
secret of his return to no one in the house. In 
the mean time, Lord Wilmot, through the means of 
Colonel Gunter, a royalist of Sussex, had succeeded 
in hiring a small coasting-vessel, and, accompanied 
by that gentleman, returned to Salisbury, in order 
to accompany Charles to his destination. 

Monday, Oct. 13. — Early in the morning the 
king, attended by Dr Henchman, a canon of Salis- 
bury, who had acted as the channel of communica- 
tion with Wilmot and Phelips, walked from Hele to 
Clarendon Park comer, where these faithful friends, 
accompanied by Colonel Gunter and his brother, 
awaited him, provided with greyhounds, as if for 
a coursing expedition on the downs, over which the 
first part of their route lay. They slept at Ham- 
bledon, in Hampshire, the house of Colonel Gunter's 
sister, whose husband, Mr Symons, not having been 
apprised of their visit, joined them from the ale- 
house, while they were at supper, in a condition of 
more than " decent hilarity.'' From the plain cut 
of the king's hair and attire, as well as the reproof 
which he received from Charles for a casual oath, 
the honest squire sat brooding over the suspicion 
" that he was some roundheaded rogue's son ; " but 
being assured that it was unfounded, included him 
in his jovial welcome. 

Tuesday, Oct. 14. — After a day's journey of 

tliirty-fivG miles, the king and his party met at 
Brighthelmstone, Captain Tattersal, the master of 
the promised vessel, and Mr Mansel, the merchant 
who had engaged it for them, with whom they 
supped at the inn. In the course of the evening, 
Smith, tlie landlord, who had formerly held a small 
office aljout court, recognised Charles, as did also 
Captain Tattersal. The former, as soon as he was 
alone with the king, seized upon his hand to kiss, 
expressing his hope " that he should be a lord and 
his wife a lady."* The latter, whose vessel had been 
taken and liberated by CTiarles, whDe commanding 
his father's fleet, two years before, remonstrated 
privately with Mansel on his want of confidence in 
not wholly trusting him, declaring, nevertheless, his 
resolution to run any lisk of life or property in his 
sovereign's cau8e.t Charles, being informed of what 

• In Colonel Gunter'a nnrrative, Smith seizes the king's 
b&nd Eta it l&y on tbe back of a. chair, &ud kissed it, saying, 
" It should not be said but that be had kissed the best hand in 
the kingdom." The Colonel, after all, does not give him credit 
for mote thnn a suspicion that it might be the king, and praises 
Charles's presence of mind is parrying the attack, though, addu 
he, the king afterwards said he thought he remembered tlie 
man as being about his father's back-stairB. Charles, in his 
narrative, ^ves o different reason ; but his memory evidently 
betrayed him more than once.— E. H. B. 

t The Colonel's account difi'ers very materially from this state- 
ment, and indeed repreaents Tattersal, not ouly a^ ignorant of 

82 DIARY. 

had passed, and fearing the same domestic influence 
which had caused his disappointment at Charmouth, 
found means to detain Tattersal all night in drinking 
and smoking, until the hour arrived for their setting 

Wednesday y Oct. 15. — ^At four in the morning, 
Charies and his friends set out from Brighthelmstone 
to the neighbouring village of Shoreham, where 
himself and Lord Wilmot embarked on board of 
Tattersal's vessel. The latter, who had hitherto 
delicately concealed from the king all knowledge of 
his person, took this opportunity of disclosing it, 
and swearing fidelity ; and the tide serving at 
seven in the morning, they weighed anchor with a 
fair wind, as if for Poole, whither Tattersal was 
ostensibly boimd. To screen the latter from suspi- 
cion, it was agreed that his passengers should 
represent themselves to the crew as merchants 
flying from their creditors, and ofier them a smaU 

the quality of his passengers, but as actuated entirely by mer- 
cenary motives. He says, that not only did Mansel receive 
£50 for his trouble in hiring the boat, but that Tattersal, or, as 
he calls him, Tatterfield, having received £60 down, refused, 
when the time for action arrived, to sail unless they bought 
his vessel outright, and that they were, in consequence, obliged 
to accede to his terms, which were £400. Even then he made 
a fresh difficulty, and insisted on being paid in advance, but 
they positively refusing, and threatening to seek assistance 
elsewhere, he at last reluctantly consented to start. — R. H. B. 

gratuity to set tliem nu the French coast. This 
manceuvre was auccessfuUy acted, the captain ap- 
pearing reluctantly to consent, as if to oblige Ms 
men. At one o'clock in the afternoon (probably 
about the time when Iiia sovereign lost sight of the 
English shore), the gallant Lord Derby laid down 
his head on the scaffold at Bolton, in Lancashire, 
pursuant to the sentence of the court-martial. With 
this coincidence terminated the three-and-forty days 
of hazards and vicissitudes passed by the kijig since 
the morning of Worcester. The next day he landed 
with Lord Wilmot at Feacamp, and proceeded to 
Roueu, where fortune had still a parting buffet in 
store for the two friends. The meanness of their 
apparel, added to their sudden arrival, subjected 
them, it seems, to the suspicion of the innkeeper aa 
vagrants ; and it was only by reference to Mr Sand- 
bume, a resident English merchant, that they were 
allowed to remain for a few days. Having, during 
this interval, apprised the court at Paris of his safe 
arrival, the king was, on the 30th of October, met 
and conducted into the capital in a style befitting 
his rank, by the queen hLs mother, the Dukes of 
York and Orleans, and a large assemblage of nobility 
and gentry of both nations. 

About the middle of December 1651, Colonel 
Lane and his sister, to avoid the consequences to 
which their loyalty might expose them, took refuge 

84 DIARY. 

in France .♦ In the diary of Evelyn, who was then 
resident at Paris, no farther mention is made of 
them than the following : — 

" Dec. 21. — Came to visite my wife, Mrs Lane, the 

* In the British Museum is a small tract, entitled " A History 
of his Sacred Majestic, King Charles the Second, from the 
Murder of his Royal Father to this present year 1660, by a 
person of quality : London, 12mo, printed for James Dayies in 
Ivy Lane," which gives the following account of MAs LAne*8 
escape, — 

" Likewise, during his Majesties abode here ** (at Paris) 
'^ arrived his quondam preserver, Mrs Jane Lane, who, after she 
had taken leave of his majesty at Bristow, returned home, and 
lived for some space in a great deal of security, not doubting 
she could not be betrayed ; yet at length, by what means I 
know not (though, indeed, 1 have heard of many relations, that 
I dare not relate any), it came to light; yet she had some 
timely notice of it, whereupon she who had formerly disguised 
his majesty in a serving-man's habit now disguised herself in 
that of a country wench, and that trots on foot (to save her life, 
which she was like to loose for having formerly saved his sacred 
majesties) quite crosse the country to Yarmouth, where she 
found shipping which conveyed her safe into France. Great 
search, after her dei)arture, there was made for her, but in vain, 
which so incensed the soldiers that they burnt down to the 
ground that poor cottage where his majesty first took shelter 
after his escape from Worcester. 

" She being arrived in France, sends a letter to the court, 
whereupon his majesty, almost overjoyed at her escape who had 
been the cause of his, immediately sends some persons of 
quality in coaches to conduct her to Paris, whither she being 
near come, — himself, with the queen his mother, the Duke 
of York, Gloucester, went out to meet this preserver of 

lady who conveietl the king to the sea-side, at Ins 
escape from Worcester." 

The particulai-s of their flight and reception are, 
however, given iu a little book,* published soon 

the life of their son, soveroign, and brother; the coaches meet- 
ing, and she being descended from her coach, bis majesty like- 
wise descends, and, taking her hj the hand, salutes her nith 
this grateful cipressiou, ' Welcome, my life I ' and so, putting 
her into hia own conch, conducts her to Paris, whci-e she waa 
entertained with the applaud and wonder of the whole court j 
and slie couUl indeed deserve no less ; for I believe neither past 
nor future ages can or will ever parallel so great a pattern of 
female loyalty and generosity." — K. H. B, 

• The name of the book in question is, " Monarchy Revived, 
being the Personal History of Charles II. fi'om his Earliest Years 
to hia Restoration to the Throne." Printed IGCI, and reprinted 
1S22. The author is not aware of the events at Abbotaleigh, 
but aeems to suppose that the king atopped at Bristol, " which 
lieing a town of great resort, his majesty was enforced to depart 
from it. Whither ho went afterwards, ia not certainly known, 
nor bath it pleased his majesty or that lady (Mrs J. L.) to 
diocoyer to any. Several passages arc wi'itten to have happened 
endangering his discovery, both at Bristol and elsewhere ; but 
the relators have not the least ground for any of them, and 
have rather chosen to gratify vulgar readers with impertinent 
fictions, than to confess their ignorance of that which they did 
not and cannot yet know. The loyal lady, in aU her journeys 
with his innjeaty, ^imported hereelf with eitraordiimry pru- 
dence and fidolity, oiproesing her observance as often aa oppor- 
tunity eofely permitted it, and at other times acting her part 
in the disguise with much caution and discretion. A farther 
relation of his majesty's progress in England, and the manner 
of his transportation into France, aa soon as it cornea into our 

86 DIAEY. 

after the Restoration, in a manner honourable to the 
good feeling of the king and his family. The words 
areas follow: "In December 1651* arrived at 
Paris, the gentlewoman who had been instrumental, 
in his majesty's deliverance after the overthrow at 
Worcester ; of which fearing danger, by the dis- 
covery of some unfaithftd confidants, she went on 
foot in disguise to Yarmouth, and there took ship 
for France. She was conducted to Paris with great 
honour, the king himself, with the queen his mother 
and the Dukes of York and Gloucester, going out 
to meet her : upon the first sight, his majesty took 
her by the hand, and saluted her with this obliging 
term, * Welcomey my life!^ The French court also 
regarded her with much respect and honour, together 
with her brother, Colonel Lane, \\dio accompanied 
her thither." 

The subsequent part of this lady's history is for 
some time obscure : it is probable, however, that as 

bands from the honourable person who, besides his majesty, 
is now alone able to impart it, shall be presented to the world." 

This proves how carefully the secrets of Trent and Charmouth 
were kept, and accounts for many false local traditions, as well 
as misstatements, in the less authentic narratives. The book 
does not differ materially from Blount in his general matter. 

* The Boscobel edition of 17G9, at the end of which are 
several additions to the text of Blount, agrees with this extract 
in all its statements, and probably made use of it as an 
authentic source of information. 

a person marked and suspected by tlie common- 
wealth, she found it advisable to remain abroad 
till tlie Restoration ; a supposition strengthened by 
the late date of her marriage with Sir Clement 
Fisher • (already mentioned as her brother's confi- 
dential friend), and by the habit-a of occasional 
correspondence witli Charles, which the following 
letter in his own hand seems to infer. The language 
ia that of the strictest deference and regard to an 
honoured friend and adviser. 

" KlSTBIB LanH, 

" 1 hope yon doo not beleove that hcariDg from a persou that I 
am BO much Iwholding to, can be in the Icnst degree troublesome 
to me, that am bo acneible of the obligationa I have to jou ; but, 
on the contrary, 'tia a -very greate satisfaction to me to heare 
from you ; and for that which Mr Boswell ia pleased to tell you 
concerning your giving me good councell in a letter, and my 
making it publick in my bed-chamber, is not the first lie that ho 
has made, nor will not be the laat, for I am sartayne there was 
never any thing spoken in the bed-chamber in my hearing to 
any such purpose, nor, I am confideat, when I was not there, 


* In one of tlie editions of Blount's Boicobel, in the library of 
King's-Bromley Hall, Sir Clement is spoken of in high terms 
na a distinguished cavalier. The letter in the king's hand- 
writing, accompanied by the picture to which it alludes, is also 
in the possession of John Newton Lane, Esq., the lineal de- 
scendant of Colonel Lane, and representative of the family, who 
has kindly favoured me with a copy of this valuable heir-Joora. 
I am not aware that it has ever been printed, and have strictly 
a*Ili£red to the orthography. 

88 DIAEY. 

for I beleeve Mr Boswell's end is to show his frequent being in 
my bed-chamber, which is as true as the other. Your cousin 
will let you know that I have given orders for my pickture for 
you ; and if in this or in any thing else I can show the senoe I 
have of that w^^ I owe you, pray let me know it, and it shall 
be done by 

" Your most assured 

" and constant frind, 
" For Mrs Lane." " Cha^rlbb R." 

After Charles's restoration, a pension for life of 
£1 000 was settled on Lady Fisher, whose marriage 
took place soon after the date of that event. A 
pension also of £500 was bestowed on her brother, 
Colonel Lane. This token of gratitude to his pro- 
tectress was accompanied by the present of a gold 
watch, which, by the express request of the king, 
was to descend by succession to the eldest daughter 
of the house of Lane for the time being. It was, in 
1830, in the possession of the dowager Mrs Lucy of 
Charlecot Park, Warwickshire.* 

An Enghsh matron of Lady Fisher's character was 
not likely to be mentioned in the subsequent annals 
of Charles's court, where, however, her brother and 
herself were on all occasions received with distinc- 
tion by the king. The pension was at one time, 
according to family report, seven years in arrear ; 

* See Pedigree of Lane Family, tkc. in Appendix (IV.) This 
lady is aunt to John Newton Lane, Esq., the present repre- 
sentative of the family (1832).— R. H. B. 

at tho end, however, of James's reign, it appears to 
have been paid up with more punctuality. 

A document in the journals of the House of 
Commons, dated Jidy 20, 1G89, states : " The peti- 
tion of the Lady Jane Lane, now Fisher, and of 
Thos. Lane, Esq.,* setting forth that, in considera- 
tion of services done by their family to the crown, 
his late majesty was pleased to grant £1000 per 
annum for life to the lady, the petitioner, and to the 
petitioner Thomas X500 per annum for life also ; 
and praying that in the bill now passing concerning 
their majesties' revenue, the said yearly payments 
may be preserved unto them." Within three days 
of the above petition, another was presented " from 
Dame Anne Wyndham, widow of Sir Francis Wynd- 
ham, Bart,, deceased," praying confirmation of a 
similar grant, by letters-patent, of ^400 per annum, 
in wliich the petitioner's two daughters, Rachel and 
Frances, had a joint reveraionary interest for theii- 
lives; and soliciting the payment of an aiTear of 
£400 which had accrued thereou. Similar memo- 
rials were on the same day presented from Robert 
Phelips, Esq,, on whom an annuity of the same value 

■ Afterwords Sir Thomas Lane,t hod of Colonel John Lane, 
and Dephew to Lady Fisher. The Colonel died in Septcml>or 
1687, ngod nbout Bcventy-sevcn. Tlie pensions in question, 
accordiug to tlie Ciniilj memoranda, ceased in the reigu of 
(Jeorgo I. 

t An umiri ho wu neter knigLtol. 

90 DIARY. 

as Colonel Lane's had been settled, and from Amias 
Hext and Juliana his wife (probably Juliana Con- 
ingsby), who claim £200 per annum for life out of 
the customs, in virtue of a grant from Charles.* 

An annuity of £200 per annum was granted to 
Mr Whitgreave, with reversion to his son Thomas ; 
and an honourable augmentation of arms bestowed 
on Colonel Carlis, with a slight alteration of name, 
which rendered the distinction more gracefully 
pointed. In heraldic language, " he bore upon an 
oak proper, in a field or, a fesse gules, charged with 
three royal crowns of the second ; by name Carlos, 
which in Spanish signifieth Charles. For his crest 
a civic crown, or oaken garland, with a sword and 
sceptre crossed thi'ough it saltier-wise, and for his 
device, Suhditus fidelis regis et regni solus!' t 

Soon after the Restoration, the five Penderels were 
received with distinction by the king at Whitehall, 
and dismissed with a suitable reward. The foUow- 

♦ See the grant from the Crown in the 18th of Charles II., 
and the second grant in the 29th of the same reign, quoted in 
No. XXVII. of the Retrospective Review, 

t The ** Colonel Careless " who figures in the excellent old 
play of the Committee (docked into the modem farce of the 
Honest Thieves, like an old brigadier wig cut down to a fashion- 
able crop), is probably meant for the hero of Worcester. 
" Colonel Blount" may have been intended for the author of 
BoscobeL — See Pedigree of Colonel Carlos, in Appendix (V.) 

iag ia the account of their jiudience, as given iu a 
tract in the Antiquarian Kepertory : * 

" ' The simple mstic, who serves his sovereign in 
the time of need to the utmost extent of his ability, 
is as deserving of our commendation as the victo- 
rious leader of thousauds,' was a saying of King 
Charles to Eichard Penderel, at the time he was 
introduced to his majesty after the Restoration. 
■ Friend Richard,' rejoined the king, ' I am glad to 
see thee ; thou wert my preserver and conductor. 
the bright star that showed me to my Bethlehem, 
for which kindness I will engrave thy memoiy on 
the tablet of a faithful heart.'t Then turning to 
the lords about him, the king said, ' My lords, I 
pray you respect this good man for my sake.' At 
this kind treatment, becoming his majesty's great- 
ness, he very merrily said, ' Master Richard, be bold, 

* See BodleiEtn edition, vol. ii. p. 59, printed from a MS. iu 
the ooUection of Anstiu, garter-kiog-at-arms, communicated l)y 
a correspondent signing himself " T. N." Tlic editor docs not 
undertake to vouch for its authenticity; but as the two Austis, 
father and son, lived in the be^nning of the lost ccutuiy, they 
probably were competent judges as to the foots. It has cer- 
tainly the pompous air of a got-up document. 

t This, as well oa his conduct to the other parties of higher 
condition, by whom he was personally assisted and protected at 
their own risk of life and goods, should seem to rescue Charles's 
character from the charges of levity and ingratitude at this 
period of liis life. 

92 DIABY. 

and tell these lords what passed amongst u% when 
I had quitted the oak at Boscobel to reach Pit- 
Leasow/ — * Your majesty must well remember/ re- 
plied Richard, * that night when brother Humphry 
brought his old miU horse from White Ladies, not 
accoutred with kingly gear, but with a pitiful 
saddle and worse bridle ; not attended by royal 
guards, but with half-a-dozen raw and undis- 
ciplined rustics, who had little else but goodwill to 
defend your majesty with ; 'twas then your majesty 
mounted, and as we journeyed towards Moseley, 
your majesty did most heartily complain of the 
jade you rode on, and said it was the dullest 
creature you ever met with ; to which my brother 
Humphry replied, " My liege, can you blame the 
horse to go heavily, when he has the weight of 
three kingdoms on his back?'' At which your 
majesty grew somewhat lighter, and commended 
brother Humphry's wit/ In like manner did this 
poor peasant entertain Charles and his courtiers, 
until his majesty thought proper to dismiss him, 
but not without settling a sufficient pension on him 
for life, on which he lived within the vicinity of the 
coui-t until the 8th of February 1671, twenty years 
after the fatal battle of Worcester, when he died, 
much lamented by his majesty, and other great 
personages whom he had protected from savage 
barbarity and fanatical persecution. His royal 

master, to perpetuate the memory of this faithful 
man, out of his princely muuificence caused a fair 
monument to be raiseJ over him in the churchyard 
of St Giles's in the Fields, near about the east end 
of the church, &c. &c." Here follows the well-known 
epitaph, given in the Boscohel edition of 1 725. It 
is stated in the edition of Boscohd, printed 1769, 
that George II. repaired the monument in 1739; 
and allusion is also matle to the name of Trusty 
Dick,* by which R. Penderel was known at the 

• The following anecdote rests on tho authority of Mrs Pen- 
derel, a maiden descendant in a direct line from Riclinrd Pen- 
derel, who rccided at Abergavenny eomo yearfi ago ; but its 
authenticity, notwithstanding the source from which it springs, 
may be somettbat doubted, as it does not appear that Charles 
ever slept at Hobbol Grange. Mrs Penderel affirmed that the 
appellattou of Trusty Dick, given to her ancestor, arose from tho 
king having overheai-d, in tiie silence of the night, a dialogue 
between Richard Penderel and hia wife. The dame, in passionate 
terms, reproved her husband for the danger he had incurred for 
himself and family by concealing Charles, held out to him the 
certainty of the splendid reward oS'ered for bis apprehension, and 
conjured him to seize the golden opportunity, hinting herreadi- 
nca to be herself the informer. Her husband replied with mucli 
indignation, assuring her that no money sboiUd bribe him to 
dcflert his sovereign, with whom he was ready to take all chances ; 
and charging her, in goodsct terms, ns she valued his future 
affection, to bo secret and faithful to tho trust imposed upon 
them. Nest morning, the king acquainted Richard Penderel 
irith his having overheard the conference, and ever after distin- 
guished him by the name of Tnisty Dick. Tho sister of Mrs 

94 DIARY. 

court of Charles, as well as to a coat-of-arms which 
accompanied his pension. 

By a patent, dated July 24, 1675, fee-fiarni rents 
(probably as a pennanent provision for the continu- 
ance of a pension previously paid) were settled in 
trust by Charles to Sir Walter Wrottesley, Bart., 
Richard Congreve and John Giffard, Esqrs. charged 
with the following payments : To Richd, Penderel 
and his heirs for ever, £100 per annum ; to William 
Penderel and his heirs for ever, a similar sum ; to 
Humphry, John, and Gteorge Penderel, and their heirs 
for ever, 100 marks per annum severally ; to Eliza- 
beth Yates, widow, and her heirs, £50 per annum, 
with a mutual benefit of inheritance, in case of the 
failure of heirs from any of the grantees.* 

Penderel above mentioned was married to Mr Bodenham of 
Rotheras, in Ilerefordsbiro. 

* It is difficult to reconcile this document with the death of 
R. Penderel in 1671 ; but as no Richard appears in the list 
of his sons, stated in his will as Thomas, Simon, Lawrence, and 
William, it is probable his name was revived in the grant, to 
connect the pension with the services received. The Gentl^marCs 
Maganncy LXII. 37, states that these pensions were accompa- 
nied with certain rights of fishing and shooting : Vdieat qvnn- 
turn valet. The question, perhaps, is not worth investigation. 

The substance of this grant, as well as many of the particulars 
respecting the Penderels, is taken from the collection made in 
1791 by Mr Pingo, rouge-dragon poiu^uivant, from the papers 
of the Yates family, and confirmed by wills proved. Were it 
not that two separate families, whose descendants are surviving, 

Again, in 1686, Jamea 11. granted an anmiity of 
.£100 per annum to Nicholas Yates of St Mary le 
Savoy, gentleman, only child ofFmncis and Margaret 
Yatea of Long Lawn, near Boscobel, deceased, " in 
reward of aasistance given to the late king by the 
said Francis and Margaret." 

From inspection of the wills of the brotherhood, 
it appears that they mostly died in circumstaDces of 
comparative opulence, bequeathing in some iustances 
lands to their families, situated chiefly in the district 
of Kiddermore Green. The survivor of the five 
brothers seems to have been Humphry, wlio died in 
1710. William is also stated by Grainger to have 
lived into the reign of William III., and to have 
attained th§ age of eighty-four, or more. In the 
protectiona of 1708, 1716, &c., more than one indi- 
vidual of the Penderel blood is specially named : 
indeed, it appears that all descendants of the families 
instrumental in the king's escape, whose circum- 
stances required it, were included. 

Owing to the lapse of time and change of place, 
it was at one time supposed that the Penderel 

ant respectively traced to Francis nnil Ell)!iibet:li Yates, aud 
FranCM and Mnrgarct Yar«s, I shouid conclude tliat Elinabeth 
and Margaret were one and the enme person, or that EHisiljoth 
might have bcim the mother of the Francia named in Bloimt. 
|rit is, T confess rnjEelf puzzled to make out the two loyal 

96 DIARY. 

blood was nearly or quite extinct; an idea partly 
refuted by the article in the GendemarCs Magor 
zine on the subject of Mrs Teresa Sykes.* The 
male line, however, of George and John still ex- 
ists, and the remaining brothers are represented 
by per.. M^, ^y. fen^e yj^ In 
all these cases (an abstract of which is added in 
the Appendix), the fee-farm rents are still received 
in portions regulated by the number of claimants, 
among whom are citizens of the United States of 
America. It is also pleasant to observe, from the 
documents in question, that the different branches of 
the family have in general attained an apparently 
prosperous and respectable condition in life, and in 
many instances moved in a higher sphere than the 
original yeomen of the Royal Oak Many a one, 
with " horse to ride and weapon to wear,'' has been 
proud to claim descent from "Trusty Dick" or 
" Old John of Boscobel." 

With respect to those families of consequence for 
whom the honours of Charles's projected order was 
intended, their names, to which in fact no arbitrary 
titles could have added distinction, are in several 
instances still borne by their male descendants on 
their hereditary ground. The Giffards of Chillington, 
the Whitgreaves of Moseley, and the Phelips's of 

* Descended from Fi-ancis aud Elizabeth Yates. 

MoDtacute,are statioiiaiy still. The Lanes of Bentley 
from whom that property passed during the last cen- 
tury, reside at King's Bromley Hall, near Lichfield, 
another branch of the family estate. From theii- 
private documents, it appears that the Colonel Lane 
commemorated in the Boscobel historj' was the eldest 
among nine children of Thomas Lane of Bentley, Esq. 
(thirteenth in descent from Adam de Lona, de Wol- 
verhampton, temp. Edw. L), of whom such honour- 
able mention is made by Clarendon.* Tliis gentle- 
man, son of John Lane of Bentley, Esq., by Jane his 
wife, daughter of Sir Edward Littleton, kniglit, mar- 
ried Anne, sister of Sir Hervey Bagot of Blithfield, 
CO. Stafford, first baronet of the name. From his son 

■ Wilmot told the king that he had, by Tery good fortune. 
" fallen into the houBe of an honest gentleman, one Mr Lune, a 
person of exceUeut repiitatioa for bis fidelity to tbo king, but of 
BO universaJ &ad general a good name, tbat though he had a son 
•ho bad been a colonel in tUe king's service during the late war 
and was then upon his way to Worcester, the very day of the 
defeat, men of all affections io the country, and of all opinions, 

paid the old man a very great respect The king 

inqnired of the monk the reputation of tbia gentleman, who 
told him that he had a fair estate, vma exceedingly beloved, and 
the eldest justice of i>eace of that county ; and though he was a 
lealous Protestant, yet he lived with so much civility and candour 
tovards the Catholics, that they would all trust him as much on 
they would one of their own profession." 

Fortet creantur fjrliiiut el bottU. 

98 DIARY. 

Colonel Jolin Lane, and his wife Athalia Anson, 
John Newton Lane, Esq. of King's Bromley Hall 
(married in 1828 to Agnes, second daughter of the 
present Lord Bagot of Blithfield) is the sixth in deft* 
cent by the male line. In Mr Lane^s possession an 
the }>ortraits of his distinguished relatives. That of 
Colonel Lane represents a plain, manly countonaiifie» 
without any marked trait. The picture of Jane Lane^ 
attributed to Lely, and bearing strong marks of hia 
style, greatly resembles the portraits of Anne Bullea 
in its thoughtful expression, as well as in the featorea 
and colour of the hair : — 

'' A pure, transparent, pale, jet radiant fiioe, 

Like to a lighted alabaster vase." 


It may be satisfactory to add some slight notice 
of the present condition of those houses, to which 
interest is attached as connected with the narrative, 
and of some of which views are appended. 

Boscobel House, which it has been thought most 
advisable to sketch in the state in which it appeared 
A. D. 1814, is left as nearly as possible in the exact 
form preserved in Blount's harsh and elaborate print. 
Having passed first into the hands of the family of 
Cotton, by an heiress of the house of Gifiard, and next, 
by the similar transmission, to Sir Basil Fitzherbert 
(who proved a zealous curator of its classical ground), 
it was finally purchased by Evans, Esq. of 

Derby, the father of the present owner.* The latter 
gentlemau, though only an occasional resident there, 
has, in the tnie spirit of Sir Basil, repaired everything 
from time to time in the most judicious taste, adding 
a few improvements consistent with the general char- 
acter, but removing nothing which has not been 
restored by scrupulous measurement. The demesne, 
with its adjacent woods, stands on the sheltered side 
of a wild, sandy common, a mile to the south of the 
small inn of Ivetsey Bank, on the road from Lich- 
field to Shrewsbury. The house itself presents the 
appearance of an old-fashioned forest lodge, as in 
days of yore. A few hundred yards to the south- 
west of it, in a field commanding a fine distant view 
of the Wrekin and Cley Hills, stands the present re- 
presentative of the Royal Oak, itself a tree of some 
antiquity. It was planted many years ago on the 
original spot, from an acorn of the parent tree, which 
soon fell a sacrifice to the destructive zeal of the loyal 
during Charles's brief populaiity. The wall erected 
by Sir Basil Fitzherbert, with which it waa sur- 
rounded until the year 1814, has been replaced in 
better taste by the present owner, with a high ii-on 
railing. The brass plate with Sir Basil's inscription, 
formerly fixed on the tree, as well as the two halves 
of the stone table in the king's arbour (one of them 
forming the threshold), are still shown at the house. 

100 DIARY. 

From hence ,» a walk of about two miks to the south 
will include Spring Coppice and the ruin of the Cis- 
tercian monastery at White Ladies, which was stand- 
ing at a recent date. No remnant of the house of 
White Ladies more directly connected with Charles's 
escape now exists ; and Dame Joane's tombstone has 
disappeared from the Catholic burying-ground, having 
probably been abstracted bodily by some antiquary 
of the modem resurrection school, and the village 
boys left to answer for the misdemeanour, f 

The only circumstance in which Boscobel House 
seems to vary from ite original state, is in the substi- 
tution of a coat of cement for the ancient chequer- 
work of black timber and plaster, observable in many 
mansions of old date in Cheshire and elsewhere ; and 
in the addition of two plain Gothic chimney-pieces 
of black marble in the parlour and best bedroom, on 
which are represented, in a low relief, the night-march 
to Moseley, and the king's situation on the Eoyal 
Oak. The panelled oak wainscoting, the Dutch 
tiles in the fire-places, and the low but roomy 
dimensions of the apartments, are in equally good 
taste and character. In one of the garrets is shown 
another priest's hiding-place, which is a mere low. 


Mr Wardof Kiddermore Green, where the Penderels possessed 
some land (as appears by will), is said to have an old picture of 
Charles in the oak, of the genuineness of which I know nothing. 
t A. D. 1830. 

flat hole, covered by the floor, and ia nowise con- 
uected with any anecdote. 

For a mile or two aft^r passing the neighbouring 
woods of Chillingtou House» the road to Moseley 
lies over a high tract of common, still imperfectly 
enclosed, and favouring such detours as took place 
during the memorable night-march. The country 
then becomes low and enclosed near Cotsall and 
Penford Mill (places also recorded in the narrative). 
From the latter spot, the footpath to Moseley crosses 
the Stafford and AVolverhampton road, and leads 
chiefly through quiet green lanes to the old mansion, 
which the annexed sketch will show to be of similar 
date and architecture with Boscobel.* There is an air 
of seclusion and weatherbeaten respectabiUty about 
Moseley Hall, redolent of jack-boot and bandalier. 
Back and buff-belt (and wanting nothing but a moat), 
which would strike an imaginative traveller at the 
first glance, and lead him to idle away half an hour 
of a atill summer evening in the green lane which 
fronts its gates, peopling the old gable-ends with 
ghostly or ancestral legends. As may be easily sup- 
posed, however, time has rendered it unfit for the 
piirposes of a family house ; and Mr Whitgreave, 
with excellent tact, has confined himself to auch re- 
pairs OS are merely necessary to keep the genuine 
floors and rafters in their place ; having removed to 

102 DIARY. 

a more modem mansion, and given up the old hall to 
the use of his Catholic chaplain and the bailiff's 

On ascending the staircase which fronts the porch, 
the landing-place on the first floor communicates with 
three doors. One of them leads into the little study- 
over the entrance, where Charles sat to reconnoitre 
the road, and which is reserved by Mr Whitgreave 
as a china-closet : another, closely adjoining, belongs 
to the bedroom which he occupied, whose windows 
are marked in the print by long creeping plants. At 
the back of the room is the hiding-place, accessible 
by a closet door, and commimicating by a secret exit 
with the offices. According to the bailiff's wife, the 
lower door is on the side of a large brew-house 
chimney, down which the passage descended. The 
meadow near the house, called the Pit-Leasow, bears 
the same name as of old, and, to judge by the pit 
and the trees by which its site is marked, the same 

Bentley Hall has been pulled down by the new 
proprietors, and a modern house erected. The same 
fate has befallen the old and commodious mansion 
of the Nortons at Abbotsleigh,* near Bristol, now 
the property of the family of Miles of that 
city. It may, however, be as well to annex an ex- 
tract of a letter from an intelligent friend, who lately 

* Sec Appendix (VI.) 

DIAEY. 103 

visited the spot from Clifton, as a place marked by 
historical interest : — 

" All that remains of the old building is a piece of wall (a few 
feet only, without any architectural decoration), which the maaon 
has preserred in raising a pretty modem white-washed dairy. 
The site of the uaw mansion is a short distance from it. I had 
an interesting conversation with an old man who was at work on 
the roads, and remembered the ' old court-house ' well, having 
lived aa servant in it thirty-five years ago, and slept frequently 
in what was called King Charles's room. He remembered very 
well the tapestry (carpeting, as he called it) on the walls, with 
pictures of wild beasts, and women giving their breasts to chil- 
dren hung at their backs, which he had heard were ' Hottenma- 
tops." A figure of ' Lady Norton,' in wax- work, seemed also 
to have made a great impression on his mind. He mentioned, 
too, haying assisted in killing the last of the wild cattle, which 
were reported to have been sent from France by the king as a 
present. The jack which the king turned, and the block of wood 
on which he sat, were held in veneration. The latter has, I 
£uicy, been converted into snuff-boxes. The property has changed 
hands two or three times since then. The tapestry rotted ; and 
Lady Norton was, I fear, treated with sad indignity, and thrown 
on the dunghill. 

" Believe me yours most truly, 

"J. G. C." 

Trent House, the next stage recorded in the king's 
journey, is situated on the frontier of Somersetshire, 
six miles to the west of Sherborne. The parish 
church itself, embellished in the best cathedral style 
by the liberality of Mr Putt, of Corpus Christi College, 
the present incumbent, as well as an old chantry 

104 DIARY. 

adjoining it, are objects in themselves worth a visit; 
the fonner especially, as containing the family monu- 
ment of the Wyndhams, and as connected with the 
narrative. The mansion itself consists of two dif- 
ferent parts. The front, commonly selected as a 
point of view, is a heavy structure, erected since the 
Restoration ; the back part, opening into the farm- 
yard, and looking out on a range of massive old 
bams and stabling, contains the important features 
which the annexed view represents. Over the pro- 
jecting penthouse, into which the kitchen door opens, 
are the windows of the bed-chamber which Lady 
Wyndham gave up to the king's use. This room 
evidently was once connected with a smaller apart- 
ment in the projecting wing marked by the massive 
stone window, of the shape and size which proves 
it a hiding-place, and furnished with a double floor. 
The situation of the latter is shown by a small garret 
window, now boarded uj), which furnished it with 
light and air ; and it probably communicated with 
a large dilapidated brew-house beneath, from which 
the curious traveller must crawl up to it by a ladder, 
to the great disarrangement of farming utensils and 
roosting hens, as well as peril to his own clothes. 
The kitchen is spacious, and the fireplace baronial 
in its dimensions ; as might therefore be expected, 
the fanner's wife points to the identical spot where 
the king sat and turned the spit. Here, indeed, as 

io all other possible places, Charles seems, like a 
wauderiug brownie, to have performed the same 
regular domestic office, — a fact never questioned by 
the good people all and severally. 

In the George Inn, at Mere, nothing of old date 
remains but a stone staircase in the ioterior of the 
house, pointed out by the lamllord as King Charles's 
stairs. A house at Philips INortou, in Somersetshire, 
is erroneously shown as connected with his wander- 
ings ; but none of the narratives mention this place 
as one of the stages. The mistake probably arose 
from the names of Norton and Phelips, as blended 
with the story, and from the evideot date of the tene- 
ment. Hele House, on the banks of the Avon, 
between Sarnm and Araesbnry, has long ago passed 
from the family of Hyde ; and within these few years 
has been pidled down. It was a large stone house, 
with square turrets at the corners. 

The inn at Broad Windsor was also pulled down 
and rebuilt about ten years ago. Mr Dowland, who 
has recently been preferred to the hving, has oblig- 
ingly communicated the substance of the village tra- 
ditions, without vouchiug for theii- acciuracy. The 
inn, after the Restoration, changed its name from the 
Castle to the George, as was natural enough. The 
rest seems a cento of floating stories, which the ac- 
curate narratives of Blount and Mrs Wyndham 
clearly assign to other places ; such as the remaik of 

106 DIARY. 

the smith on the horse's four shoes, the detention of 
the puritan preacher by his own long sermon, &c. A 
hiding-place in the roof was also shown, communi- 
cating with the top of the stairs through a passage 
masked by a sliding panel, which was asserted to 
have been the king's hiding-place. It seems more 
probable that it was subsequently made " for the 
nonce," by some shrewd publican, — possibly by 
honest Rice Jones himself, whose known loyalty 
might have been compatible with this pious fraud on 
the class of visitors who are not contented unless 
they see something. There exists still for their grati- 
fication a piece of an old bedstead, reported to have 
been presented by the king to Jones after his resto- 
ration (which, like the bricks in Mortimer's chimney 
of Shakespearian memory) is standing as a part of 
an old summer-house. " It was of extremely massive 
oak," says Mr Dowland, "bearing the insignia of 
royalty, beautifully carved, fluted, and gilded." The 
fact of its presentation is certainly possible ; whe- 
ther probable or not, the reader must determine for 


The house at Charmouth, pointed out as King 

Charles's inn, is still in existence, bearing marks of 

undoubted antiquity ; and though no longer an inn, 

is not likely to have been substituted by village 

tradition for the right place. " The chimney at the 

east end of the house is immensely wide, and projects 


some feet into the upper room, causing a little recess 
or very confined apartment, in whicli is a small win- 
dow. This place is called ' the king's hiding-hole ' 
by the people of the house ; though a place that looks 
into the street is not very likely to have been used 
as a place of concealment. We could make nothing 
out of this morsel of antiquity." Thus far the lady 
to whose practised acciu-acy I am indebted for this 
notice of the house ; and who appears to consider 
this part of the tradition as apocryphal as I do my- 
self. It is more likely that such fabi-ications should 
have been constructed during the king's popularity, 
for obvious reasons, than that he should on every 
chance occasion be guided by the instinct which 
drives a hunted rabbit to the nearest burrow. 

Whether the George Inn at Brighton exist in its 
original state, or not, I am not aware. If still in 
being, it will have been noticed in the local guide- 
book ; as also the tombstone and epitaph of Captain 
Tattersal, which the Gentleman's Maffazinc for 
January 1773, and February 1766, states as to be 
found at that date in Brighthelmstone churchyard.* 

* Mr Hughes was probablj led into this inietakc by a letter tu 
Gentlcman't Ma;iaiine, Novuiubcr 1791, respecting Mrs Theresa 
Sykos. who U there stated to have dcaceoded from the Pouderels, 
whereas, io truth, slie came from Fraacis Yates. — (S«e Pedigree, 
in Appendix.) There are §eveml oom muni cat ion a to the same 
publication rcepccting the Pcndercl family, but almost ail grossly 
iiMocurate. The tomb is described as being on "altar tomb" 

108 DIARY. 

T am not aware of having omitted any other local 
particulars likely to engage the attention of those 
who, like myself, value old chimneys and gables for 
the sake of historical associations. To the severer 
eye of political economy, most of them will soon, I 
fear, become more interesting under the hand of 
time, in the shape of convertible materials for 

opposite the chancel on the south side of the churchyard, and is 
said in Gentleman* s Magazine, 1802, to be in good preservation, 
though the letters are not cut so deep as they should be. The 
epitaph is curious, not only as arrogating to the deceased a de- 
gree of loyalty and disinterestedness which, if Colonel Gunter is 
to be believed, he did not possess, but from the self-complacency 
with which his son, who erected the monument, claims to be 
" the just inheritor of his father's virtues." Captain Tettersell, 
according to a tradition in the town (Gentleman's Magazinty 
1766, p. 57), was at the Restoration appointed, at his own re- 
quest, a captain in the Royal Navy, from which post he was soon 
after dismissed for some misconduct in an engagement. A pen- 
sion of £400 per annum was, however, settled on him, which some 
of his descendants are there said to have been lately in the re- 
ceipt of For the epitaph, see Appendix (VII). — R. H. B. 




[N.B. — The following passage, embracing nearly the whole of 
the period to which the several tracts refer, is reprinted for the 
purpose of showing its discrepancy, in many points, from the 
matter in which the other documents agree. The part relat- 
ing to the king's sojourn at Trent House, and his fruitless 
expedition to Charmouth, seems the most accurate ; having 
been probably corrected from EUesdon's letter, which Lord 
Clarendon has endorsed in his State Papers as an authentic 
source of information. The most material errors wiU be 
noticed in the course of the narrative by the letter D at the 
bottom of the page.] 

It is great pity that there was never a journal 
made of that miraculous deliverance, in which 
there might be seen so many visible impressions 
of the immediate hand of God. When the dark- 
ness of the night was over, after the king had cast 
himself into that wood,* he discerned another man, 

♦ D. 


who had gotten upon an oak in the same wood, near 
the place where the king had rested himself, and 
had slept soundly. The man upon the tree had 
first seen the king, and knew him, and came down 
to him, and was known to the king, being a gentle- 
man of the neighbour coimty of StajGFordshire, who 
had served his late majesty during the war, and 
had now been one of the few who resorted to the 
king after his coming to Worcester. His name was 
Careless,* who had had a command of foot, about t 
the degree of a captain, under the Lord Lough- 
borough.J He persuaded the king, since it could 
not be safe for him to go out of the wood, and 
that, as soon as it should be fully light, the wood 
itself would probably be visited by those of the 
coimtry, who would be searching to find those 
whom they might make prisoners, that he would 
get up into that tree, where he had been ; where 
the boughs were so thick with leaves, that a man 
would not be discovered there without a narrower 
inquiry than people usually make in places which 
they do not suspect. The king thought it good 
counsel, and, with the others help, climbed into 
the tree, and then helped his companion to ascend 
after him ; where they sat all that day, and securely 

♦ Printed " Carlis " in BoscoUL f Above. 

X D. Carlis did not join the king till after the return from 


saw many who came purposely into the wood to 
loiik after them, and heai'J all the discourse, how 
they would use the king himself if they could take 
Idm. Thia wood waa either in or upon the borders 
of Staffordshire ; and though there was a highway 
near one side of it, where the king had entered 
into it, yet it was large, and all other sides of it 
opened amongst enclosures, and Careless • was not 
unacquainted with the neighbour villages ; and it 
was part of the king's good fortune, that this gentle- 
man, by being a Roman Catholic, was acquainted 
with those of that profession of all degrees, who had 
the best opportunities of concealing him ; for it must 
never lie denied, that some of that religion f had a 
very great share in his majesty's preservation. 

The day being spent in the tree,J it was not in 
the king's power to forget that he had lived two 
days with eating very little, and two nights with 
as little sleep ; so that, when the night came, he 
was willing to make some provision for both : and 
he resolved, with the advice and assistance of his 
companion, to leave hla blessed tree ; and, when 
the night was dark, they walked through the wood 
into those encloeurea which were faithest from any 
Iiighway, and making a shift to get over hedges 
and ditches, after walking at legist eight or nine 
miles, which were the more grievous to the king 
■ Aud it pleased Qod that Careless. i Pailb. t D. 


by the weight of his boots* (for he could not 
put them oflf, when he cut off his hair, for want of 
shoes), before morning they came to a poor cottage,t 
the owner whereof, being a Roman Catholic, was 
known to Careless. He was called up, and as soon 
as he knew one of them, he easily concluded in 
what condition they both were ; and presently car- 
ried them into a little bam full of hay ; which was 
a better lodging than he had for himself. But 
when they were there, and had conferred with their 
host of the news and temper of the country, it was 
agreed, J that the danger would be the greater if 
they stayed together ; and therefore that Careless 
should presently be gone, and should, within two 
days, send an honest man to the king, to guide him 
to some other place of security, and in the mean 
time his majesty should stay upon the hay-mow. 
The poor man§ had nothing for him to eat, but 
promised him good butter-milk ; || and so he was 
once more left alone, his companion, how weary 
soever, departing from him before day, the poor 
man of the house knowing no more than that he 
was a friend of the captain's and one of those who 
had escaped from Worcester. The king slept very 
well in his lodging, till the time that his host 
brought him a piece of bread, and a great pot of 

* D. t D. J Resolved. 

§ D. Au imagiuarj person. II MS. adds the next morning. 


buttermilk, which he thought the best food he ever 
had eaten. The poor man spoke very intelligentiy 
to him of the country, and of the people who were 
well or ill affected to the king, and of the great fear 
and terror that possessed the hearts of those who were 
best affected. He told him, " that he himself lived 
by his daily lalxmr, and that what he had brought 
him was the fare he and his wife had ; and that he 
feared, if he should endeavour to procure better, it 
might draw suspicion upon him, and people might 
be apt to think he had somebody with him that 
was not of his own family. However, if he would 
have him get some meat, he would do it ; but if he 
could bear this hard diet, he should have enough of 
the milk, and some of the butter that was made 
with it." The king was satisfied with his reason, 
and woidd not run the hazard for a change of diet ; 
desired only the man, " that he might have his com- 
pany as often, and as much as he could give it 
him ; " there being the same reason against the 
poor man's discontinuing his labour, as the altera- 
tion of hLs fare. 

After he had rested upon this hay-mow, and fed 
upon this diet two days and two nights, iu the 
evening before the third night," another fellow, a 
little above the condition of his host, came to the 

' D. 


house, sent for Careless, to conduct the king to 
another house, more out of any road near which 
any part of the army was like to march. It was 
about twelve miles that he was to go, and was to 
use the same caution he had done the first nighty 
not to go in any common road, which his guide 
knew well how to avoid. Here he new dressed 
himself, changing clothes with his landlord : * he 
had a great mind to have kept his own shirt ; 
but he considered, that men are not sooner dis- 
covered by any mark in disguises, than by having 
fine linen in ill clothes ; and so he parted with his 
shirt too, and took the same his poor host had then 
on. Though he had foreseen that he must leave 
his boots, and his landlord had taken the best care 
he could to provide an old pair of shoes, yet they 
were not easy to him when he first put them on, 
and, in a short time after, grew very gi-ievous to 
him. In this equipage he set out from his first 
lodging in the beginning of the night, under the 
conduct of this guide,t who guided him the nearest 
way, crossing over hedges and ditches, that they 
might be in least danger of meeting passengers. 
This was so grievous a march, and he was so tired, 
that he was even ready to despair, and to prefer being 
taken and suffered to rest, before purchasing his 

♦ MS. adds, and putting on those which he usually wore. 
t Comrade. 


safety at that price. His shoes had, after a few 
miles,* hurt him so much, that he had thrown them 
away.t and walked the rest of the way ui his ill 
stockings, which were quickly worL out ; autl hia 
feet, with the thorns in getting over hedges, and 
with the stones in other places, were so hurt and 
wounded, that he many times cast himself upon the 
ground, with a desperate and obstinate resolution 
to rest there till the morning, that ho might shift 
with less torment, what hazard soever he run. But 
his stout guide still prevailed with iiim to make a new 
attempt, sometimes promising that the way should 
be better, and sometimes assuring him that he had 
but little farther to go : and in this distress and 
perplexity, before the morning, they arrived at the 
house designed ; J which, though it was better than 
that whicli he had left, his lodging was stUI in the 
ham, upon straw instead of hay, a place being made 
as easy in it as the expectation of a guest could 
dispose it. Here he had such meat and porridge as 
such people use to have ; with which, but espe- 
cially with the butter and the cheese, he thought 
himseK well feasted ; and took the best care he could 
to be supplied with other, little better, shoes and 
stockings ; and after hia feet were enough recovered 
that he could go, he was conducted from thence to 

" After the walking a fow miles. 

J D. 


another poor house,^ within such a distance as put 
him not to much trouble : for having not yet in his 
thought, which way, or by what means, to make his 
escape, all that was designed was only, by shifting 
from one house to another, to avoid discovery. And 
being now in that quarter which was more inhabited 
by the Roman CathoUcs than most other parts in 
England, he was led from one to another of that 
persuasion, and concealed with great fidelity. But 
he then observed that he was never carried to any 
gentleman's house, though that country was full of 
them, but only to poor houses t of poor men, which 
only yielded him rest with very unpleasant susten- 
ance : whether there was more danger in those 
better houses, in regard of the resort, and the many 
servants ; or whether the owners of great estates 
were the owners likewise of more fears and appre- 

Within few days, a very honest and discreet 
person, one Mr Hudlestone, a Benedictine monk, 
who attended the service of the Roman Catholics in 
those parts, came to him, sent by Careless ; J and 
was a very great assistance and comfort to him. 
And when the places to which he carried him were 
at too great a distance to walk, he provided him a 
horse, and more proper habit than the rags he wore. 

• D. t D. } D. 



Tliid man told him, " that the Lord "Wilmot lay con- 
cealed likew-ise in a friend's house of his ; which his 
majesty was very glad of, and wished him to con- 
trive some means how they might speak together ; " 
which the other easily did, and within a night or 
two brought them into one place. Wilmot told the 
king, " that he had by very good fortune fallen into 
the house of an honest gentleman, one Mr Lane, a 
person of an excellent reputation for his fidelity to 
the king, but of so universal and general a good 
name, that, though he had a son who had been a, 
colonel in the king's service dming the late war, 
and was then upon his way with men to Worcester 
the very day of the defeat, men of all affections in 
the country, and of all opinions, paid the old man a 
very great respect ; that he had been very civilly 
treated there, and that the old gentleman had used 
some diligence to find out where the king was, that 
he might get him to his house, where he was sure 
be could conceal Mm till he might contrive a full 
deliverance." He told him, " he had withdrawn 
from that house, in hope" that he might, in some 
other place, + discover where his majesty was, and 
having now happily found him, advised h i m to 
repair to that house, which stood not near any 

And put bimBcIf amongst the Catholic; 

Vnt in UQ 

t Not in MS, 


The king inquired of the monk of the reputation 
of this gentleman ; who told him, " that he had a 
fair estate, was exceedingly beloved, and the eldest 
justice of peace of that county of Staflford ; and 
though he was a very zealous Protestant, yet he 
lived with so much civility and candour towards 
the Catholics, that they would all trust him as 
much as they would do any of their own profes- 
sion ; and that he could not think of any place of 
so good repose and security for his majesty's repair 
to/' The king * liked the proposition, yet thought 
not fit to surprise the gentleman, but sent Wilmot 
thither again, to assure himself that he might be re- 
ceived there, and was willing that he should know 
what guest he received ; which hitherto was so 
much concealed, that none of the houses where he 
had yet been knew, or seemed to suspect, more than 
that he was one of the king s party that fled from 
AVorcester. The monk carried him to a house at a 
reasonable distance, where he was to expect an ac- 
count from the Lord Wilmot ; who returned very 
punctually, with as much assurance of welcome as 
he could wish. And so they two went together to 
Mr Lane's house, t where the king found he was 
welcome, and conveniently accommodated in such 
places, as in a large house had been provided to 

* The king, who minds to eat well as to sleep, by this time 
had as good a * t D. 

* Sio in Clarendon, but the sense seems incomplete. — £o. 


conceal the persons of malignanta, or to preserve 
goods of value from being plundered. Here he 
lodged, and ate very well ; and begun to hope that 
he was in present safety. Wilmot returned under 
the care of the monk, and expected summona when 
any farther motion should be thought to be neces- 

In this station the king remained in quiet and 
blessed security many days,* receiving every day 
information of the general consternation the king- 
dom was in, out of the apprehension that his person 
might fall into the hands of his enemies, and of the 
great diligence they used to inquire for him. He saw 
the proclamation that was issued out and printed, 
in which a thousand pounds were promised to any 
man who would deliver and discover the person of 
Charles Stuart, and the penalty of high treason de- 
clared against those who presumed to harboui- or 
conceal him ; by which he saw how much he was 
beholden to all those who were faithfid to him. It 
was now time to consider how he might get + near 
the sea, irom whence he might find some means to 
transport himself ; and he was now near the middle 
of the kingdom, saving that it was a little more 
northward, where he was utterly unacquainted with 
all the ports, and with that coast. In the west he 
was best acquainted, and that coast was most pro- 

• D. Oulj one tiight. + Find himBelf. 



per to transport him into France, to which he was 
inclined. * Upon this matter he communicated with 
those of this family to whom he was known, that 
is, with the old gentleman the father, a very grave 
and venerable person ; the colonel his eldest son, a 
very plain man in his discourse and behaviour, but 
of a fearless courage, and an integrity superior to 
any temptation ; and a daughter of the house, of a 
very good wit and discretion, and very jfit to bear 
any part in such a trust. It was a l^enejfit, as well 
as an inconvenience, in those unhappy times, that 
the aflFections of all men were almost as well known 
as their faces, by the discovery they had made of 
themselves, in those sad seasons, in many trials and 
persecutions ; so that men knew not only the minds 
of their next neighbours, and those who inhabited 
near them, but, upon conference with their friends, 
could choose fit liouses, at any distance, to repose 
themselves in security, from one end of the kingdom 
to another, without trusting the hospitality of a 
common inn ; and men were very rarely deceived 
in their confidence upon such occasions, but the 
persons with whom they were at any time could 
conduct them to another house of the same affection. 
Mr Lane had a niece, or very near kinswoman, 
who was married to a gentleman, one Mr Norton, 

* Most inclined. 



a person of eight or nine hundred pounds per 
auQiim, who lived within four or five miles of 
Bristol, which was at least four or five days' 
journey from the place where the king then was, 
but a place most to be wished for the king to be 
in, because he did not only know all that country 
very well, but knew many persons also, to whom, 
in an extraordinary case, he durst make himself 
known. It was hereupon resolved, that Mrs Lane 
Bhould visit this cousin, who was known to be of 
good affections, and that she should ride behind 
the king, who was fitted with clothes and Ijoots for 
such a service ; and that * a sei-vant of her father's, 
in his livery, should wait upon her. A good liouse 
was easily pitched upon for the first night's lodging, 
w^here Wilmot hatl notice given him to meet. And 
in this equipage the king begun his journey, the 
colonel keeping him company at a distance, with a 
hawk upon his fist, and two or three spaniels, which, 
■where there were any fields at hand, warranted htm 
to ride out of tlie way, keeping his company still in 
his eye, and not seeming to be of it. In this manner 
they came to their fii-st night's lodging ; and they 
need not now contrive to come to their journey's 
end alxiut the close of the evening, for it was in the 
month of October far advanced, t that the long 

+ WedneeJay, Sept. 10. 


journeys they made could not be despatched sooner. 
Here the Lord Wilmot found them,* and their 
journeys being then adjusted, he was instructed 
wliere he should be every night ; so they were 
seldom seen together in the journey, and rarely 
lodged in the same house at night. In this manner 
the colonel hawked two or three days, till he had 
brought them within less than a day's journey of 
Mr Norton's house ; and then he gave his hawk to 
the Lord Wilmot, who continued the journey in the 
same exercise. 

There was great care taken, when they came to 
any house, that the king might be presently carried 
into some chamber, Mrs Lane "declaring, that he was 
a neighbour s son, whom his father had lent her to 
ride before her, in hope that he would the sooner re- 
cover from a quartan ague, with which he had been 
miserably afflicted, and was not yet free/' And by 
this artifice she caused a good bed to be still pro- 
vided for him, and the best meat to be sent, which 
she often carried hei*self, to hinder others from doing 
it. There was no resting in any place till they 
came to Mr Norton's, nor anything extraordinary 
that happened in the way, save that they met many 
people every day in the way, w^ho were very well 
known to the king ; and the day that they w^ent 
to Mr Norton's they w^ere necessarily to ride quite 

* D. 


through the city of Bristol ; a place and people the 
king had been so well acquainted with, that he 
could not but send his eyes abroad to view the 
great alterations which had been made there, after 
his departure from thence ; * and when he rode near 
the place where the great fort had stood, he could 
not forbear putting his horse out of the way, and 
rode with hia mistress behind him round about it. 

They came to Sir Norton's house sooner than 
usual, and it being on a holiday, they saw many 
people about a bowUug-green that was before the 
door ; and the fii'st man the king saw was a 
chaplain of his own,+ who was allied to the gentle- 
man of the house, iind was sitting upon the rails to 
Bee how the bowlers played. William, by which 
name the king went.J walked with hia horse into 
the stable, until his mistress could provide for his 
retreat. Mi-s Lane was veiy welcome to her cousin, 
and was presently conducted to her chamber; where 
she no sooner was, than she lamented the condition 
of ■' a good youth, who came with her, and whom 
she had borrowed of his father to ride before her, 
who was very sick, being newly recovered of an 
ague ; " and desired her cousin, " that a chamber 
might be provided for him, and a good fire made, 
for that he would go early to bed, and was not fit 

• D. t D. Imaginary. I D. 


to be below stairs/' A pretty little chamber was 
presently made ready, and a fire prepared, and a 
boy* sent into the stable to call William, and to 
show him his chamber ; who was very glad to be 
there, freed from so much company as was below. 
Mrs Lane t wa^ put to find some excuse for making 
a visit at that time of the year, and so many days' 
journey from her father, and where she had never 
been before, though the mistress of the house and she 
had been bred together, and friends as well as kindred. 
She J pretended, " that she was, after a little rest, to 
go into Dorsetshire to another friend/' When it was 
supper-time, there being broth brought to the table, 
Mrs Lane filled a little dish, and desired the butler, 
who waited at the table, "to carry that dish of 
porridge to William, and to tell him that he should 
have some meat sent him presently/' The butler 
carried the porridge into the chamber, with a nap- 
kin, and spoon, and bread, and spoke kindly to the 
young man, who was willing to be eating. 

Tlie butler, looking narrowly upon him, fell upon 
his knees, and with tears told him, " he was glad to 
see his majesty/' The king was infinitely surprised, 
yet recollected himself enough to laugh at the man, 
and to ask him, " what he meant ? " The man had 
been a falconer to Sir Thomas Jermyn, and made it 

* D. t D. She went by appointment. j D. 


appear that he knew well enough to whom he spoke, 
repeating some particulars, which the king had not 
forgot. Whereupon the king conjured him " not to 
speak of what he knew, so much as to his master, 
though he believed him a very honest man.'' The 
fellow promised, and kept * his word ; and the king 
was the better waited upon during the time of his 
abode there. 

Dr Gorges,t the king's chaplain, being a gentle- 
man of a good family near that place, and allied to 
Mr Norton, supped with them, and, being a man of 
a cheerful conversation, asked Mrs Lane many 
questions concerning William, of whom he saw she 
was so careful by sending up meat to him, " how 
long his ague had been gone, and whether he had 
purged since it left him 1 " and the like ; to which 
she gave such answers as occurred. The doctor, 
from the final prevalence of the parliament, had, as 
many others of that function had done, declined his 
profession, and pretended to study physic. As soon 
as supper was done, out of good nature, and without 
telling any body, he went to see William. The king 
saw him coming into the chamber, and withdrew 
to the inside of the bed, that he might be farthest 
from the candle ; and the doctor came, and sat down 
by him, felt his pulse, and asked him many ques- 

* Faithfully kept t D. 


tions, which he answered in as few words as was 
possible, and expressing great inclination to go to 
his bed ; to which the doctor left him, and went to 
Mi's Lane, and told her, " that he had been with 
William, and that he would do well ; *' and advised 
her what she should do if his ague returned. The 
next morning the doctor went away, so that the 
king saw him no more.* The next day the Lord 
Wilmot came to the house with his hawk, to see 
Mrs Lane, and so conferred with William, who was 
to consider what he was to do. They thought it 
necessary to rest some days, till they were informed 
what port lay most convenient for them, and what 
person lived nearest to it, upon whose jfidelity they 
might rely ; and the king gave him directions to 
inquire after some persons, and some other particu- 
lars, of which, when he should be fully instructed, 
he should return again to liim. In the mean time 
Wilmot lodged at a house not far from Mr Norton's, 
to which he had been recommended. 

After some days' stay here, and communication 
between the king and the Lord Wilmot by letters, 
the king came to know that Colonel Francis Wind- 
ham lived within little more than a day's journey 
of the place where he was, of which he was very 
glad ; for besides the inclination he had to his eldest 

* MS. adds, of which he was right glad. 


brother, whose wife had been his nurse, this gentle- 
man had behaved himself very well duriug the war, 
and had been governor of Duustar Castle, where the 
king had lodged when he was in the west. After 
the end of the war, and when all other places were 
surrendered in that county, he likewise surrendered 
that, upon fair couditione, and made his peace, and 
afterwards married a wife with a competent fortune, 
and lived quietly, without any suspicion of having 
lessened his affection towards the king. 

The king sent Wilmot to him, and acquainted 
him where he was, and " that he would gladly speak 
with him." It was not hard for him to choose a 
good place where to meet, and thereupon the day 
was appointed. After the king had taken his leave 
of Mrs Lane, who remained with her cousin Norton, 
the king and the Lord Wilmot met the colonel ; and 
in the way he met,* in a town through which they 
passed, Mr Kirton. a sei-vant of the king's, who well 
knew the Lord Wilmot, who had no other disguise 
than the hawk, but took no notice of him, nor 
suspected the king to be there ; yet that day made 
the king more wary of having him in his company 
upon the way. At the place of meeting they rested 
only one night, and then the king went to tlie 
oolonel's house ; where he rested many days,+ whilst 

+ D. Only oue Jny. 


the colonel projected at what place the feing might 
embark, and how they might procure a vessel to be 
ready there ; which was not easy to jfind, there 
being so great a fear* possessing those who were 
honest, that it was hard to procure any vessel that 
was outward bound to take in any passenger. 

There was a gentleman, one Mr Ellison,t who 
lived near Lyme, in Dorsetshire, and was well 
known to Colonel Windham, having been a captain 
in the king's army, and was still looked upon as a 
very honest man. With him the colonel consulted 
how they might get a vessel to be ready to take in 
a couple of gentlemen, friends of his, who were in 
danger to be arrested, and transport them into 
France. Though no man would ask who the per- 
sons were, yet it could not but be suspected J who 
tliey were ; at least they concluded that it was some 
of the Worcester party. Lyme was generally as mali- 
cious and disaflfected a town to the king's interest as 
any town in England could be, yet there was in it 
a master of a bark, of whose honesty this captain 
was very confident. This man was lately returned 
from France, and had unladen his vessel, when 
Ellison asked him, " when he would make another 
voyage ? " And he answered, " as soon as he could 

* There being so great caution in all the ports, and so great a 

t D. Ellesdon. J Yet every man suspected. 


get lading for his ship." Tlie otter asked, "whether 
he would undertake to carry over a couple of gentle- 
men, and land them in France, if he might be as 
well paid for hia voyage as he used to be when he 
was freighted by the merchants 1 " In conclusion 
he told him, " he should receive fifty pounds for his 
fare." The large recompense had that effect, that 
the man undertook it ; though he said, " he must 
make his provision very secretly ; for that he might 
be well suspected for going to sea again without 
being freighted, after he was so newly returned." 
Colonel Windham, being advertised of this, came, 
together with the Lord Wihnot, to the captain's 
house, from whence the lord and the captain rid to 
a house near Lyme, where the master of the bark 
met them ; and the Lord Wilmot being satisfied 
with the discourse of the man, and his wariness in 
foreseeing suspicions which would arise, it was 
resolved, that on such a night, which, upon conside- 
ration of the tides, was agreed upon, the man shoiUd 
draw out his vessel from tbe pier, and, belog at sea, 
should come to such a point about a mile from the 
town, where his ship should remain upon the beach 
when the water was gone, which would take it off 
again about break of day the next morning. There 
was very near that point, even in the view of it, 


a small inn,* kept by a man who was reputed honesty 
to which the cavaliers of the coimtry often resorted ; 
and London road passed that way, so that it was 
seldom without company.t Into that inn the two 
gentlemen were to come in the beginning of the 
night, that they might put themselyes on board 
All things being thus concerted, and good earnest 
given to the master, the Lord Wilmot and the 
colonel returned to the colonel's house, above a day's 
journey from the place, the captain imdertaking 
every day to look that the master should provide, 
and, if any thing fell out contrary to expectation, to 
give the colonel notice at such a place, where they 
intended the king should be the day before he was 
to embark. 

The king, being satisfied with these preparations, 
came, at the time appointed, to that house where he 
was to hear that all went as it ought to do ; of 
which he received assurance from the captain, who 
found that the man had honestly put his provisions 
on board, and had his company ready, which were 
])ut four men, and that the vessel should be drawn 
out that night ; so that it was fit for the two per- 
sons to come to the aforesaid inn, and the captain 
conducted them within sight of it, and then went to 
his own house, not distant a mile from it ; the colo- 
nel remaining still at the house where they had 

* D. t Resort. 



lodged the night before, till he might near the news 
of their being embarked. 

They found many passengers in the inn, and so 
were to be contented with an ordinary chamber, which 
they did not intend to sleep long in. But as soon 
aa there appeared any light, Wilmot went out to 
discover the bark, of which there was no appearance. 
In a word, the sun arose, and nothing like a ship in 
view. They sent to the captain, who was as much 
amazed ; and he sent to the town, and his servant 
could not find the master of the bark, which was 
atiU in the pier. They suspected the captain, and 
the captain suspected the master. However, it being 
past ten of the clock, they concluded it was not fit 
for them to stay longer there, and so they mounted 
their horses again to retum to the house where they 
had left the colonel, who, they knew, resolved to 
stay there till he were assured that they were gone. 

The truth of the disappointment was this : the 
man meant honestly, and made all things ready for 
his departure ; and the night he was to go out with 
his vessel, he had stayed in his own house, and slept 
two or three hours ; and the time of the tide being 
come, that it was necessary to be on board, he took 
ont of a cupboard some linen, and other things, 
which he used to carry with him to sea. His wife 
had obser\'ed that he had been for some days fuller 
of thoughts than he used to be, and that he had been 


speaking with seamen, who used to go witli him, 
and that some of them had carried proyisions on 
board the bark ; of which she had asked her husband 
the reason, who had told her, *^ that he was promised 
freight speedily, and therefore he would make all 
things ready." She was sure that there was yet no 
lading in the ship, and therefore, when she saw her 
husband take all those materials with him, which 
was a sure sign that he meant to go to sea^ and it 
being late in the night, she shut the door, and swore 
he should not go out of his house. He told her, 
^ he must go, and was engaged to go to sea that 
night, for which he should be well paid/' His wife 
told him, " she was sure he was doing somewhat that 
would undo him, and she was resolved he should 
not go out of his house ; and if he should persist in 
it, she would tell the neighbours, and carry him be- 
fore the mayor to be examined, that the truth might 
be found out." The poor man, thus mastered by 
the passion and violence of his wife, was forced to 
yield to her, that there might be no farther noise, 
and so went into his bed. 

And it was very happy that the king's jealousy 
hastened him from that inn. It was the solemn fast 
day, which was observed in those times principally 
to inflame the people against the king, and all those 
who were loyal to him ; and there was a chapel in 
that village over against that inn, where a weaver, 


wlio had been a soldier, used to preach, and utter all 
the villany imaginable against the old order of 
government ; and he was then in the chapel preach- 
ing to hia congregation, when the king went from 
thence, and telling the people, " that Charles Stuart 
waa lurking somewhere in that country, and that 
they would merit from God Almighty, if they could 
find him out." The passengers, who had lodged in 
the inn that night, had, as soon as they were up, 
sent for a smith to visit their horses, It being a hard 
frost.* The smith, when he had done what he waa 
sent for, according to the custom of that people, 
examined the feet of the other two horses to find 
more work. When he had observed them, he told 
the host of the house, " that one of those horses had 
travelled far, and that he was sure that his four 
shoes had been made in four several counties ;" 
which, whether his skill was able to discover or no, 
waa veiy true. The smith, going to the sermon, 
told this story to some of his neighbours ; and so it 
came to the ears of tlie preacher when his sermon 
waa done. Immediately he sent for an officer, and 
searched the inn, and inquired for those horses ; and 
being informed that they were gone, he caused 
horses to be sent to follow them, and to make in- 
quiry after the two men who rid those horses, and 

* D. Tlie latter eud of September. 


positively declared^ '' that one of them was Charles 

When they came again to the colonel, they pre- 
sently concluded that they were to make no longer 
stay in those parts^ nor any more to endeavour to 
find a ship upon that coast ; and, without any 
farther delay, they rode back to the colonel's houses 
where they arrived in the night. Then they re- 
solved to make their next attempt* in Hampshire 
and Sussex, where Colonel Windham had no interest 
They must pass through all Wiltshire before they 
came thither, which would require many days' 
journey ; and they were first to consider what 
honest houses there were in or near the way, where 
they might securely repose; and it was thou^t 
very dangerous for the king to ride through any 
great town, as Salisbury or Winchester, which might 
probably lie in their way. 

There was between that and Salisbury a very 
honest gentleman, Colonel Kobert Philips, a yoimger 
brother of a very good family, which had always 
been very loyal, and he had served the king during 
the war. The king was resolved to trust him ; and 
so sent the Lord Wilmot to a place from whence he 
might send to Mr Philips to come to him, and when 
he had spoken with him, Mr Philips should come to 

* MS. adds, more southward. 


the king, and WUmot was to stay in such a place as 
they two should agree. Mr Philips accordingly 
came to the colonel'a house, which he could do with- 
out suspicion, they being nearly allied. The ways 
were very full of soldiers, which were sent now from 
the army to their quarters ; and many regiments of 
horse and foot were assigned for the west, of which 
division Desbo rough wiis commander-in-chief.* These 
marches were like to last for many days, and it 
would not be fit for the king to stay so long in that 
place. Thereupon he resorted to his old security of 
taking a woman behind him, a kinswoman of Colonel 
Windham, whom he carried in that manner to a place 
not far from Salisbury, to wHch Colonel Philips con- 
ducted him. In this journey he passed through the 
middle of a regiment of horse ; and, presently after, 
met Deaborough walking down a hill, with three or 
four men with him, who had lodged in Salisbury the 
night before, all that road being full of soldiers. 

The next day, upon the plains, Dr Hinchman, one 
of the preljeuds of Salisbury, met the king, the 
Lord WUmot and Philips then leaving him to go 
to the sea-coast to find a vessel, the doctor conduct- 
ing the king to a place called Heale, three miles from 
Salisbury, belonging then to Sergeant Hyde, who 
was afterwards chief justice of the King's Bench 

' Mftjor-gBniiiiil. 


and then in the possession of the widow of his elder 
brother ; a house that stood alone from neighbours, 
and from any highway ; where, coming in late in 
the evening, he supped with some gentlemen who 
accidentally were in the house, which could not well 
be avoided. But, the next morning, he went early 
from thence, as if he had continued his journey ; 
and the widow, being trusted with the knowledge of 
her guest, sent her servants out of the way, and, at 
an hour appointed, received him again, and accom* 
modated him in a little room, which had been made 
since the beginning of the troubles for the conceal- 
ment of delinquents, the seat always belonging to a 
malignant family. 

Here he lay concealed, without the knowledge of 
some gentlemen who lived in the house, and of others 
who daily resorted thither, for many days, the widow 
herself only attending him with such things as were 
necessary, and bringing him such letters as the doctor 
received from the Lord WUmot and Colonel Philips. 
A vessel being at last provided upon the coast of 
Sussex, and notice thereof sent to Dr Hinchman, he 
sent to the king to meet him at Stonehenge upon 
the plains three miles from Heale, whither the widow 
took care to direct him ; and being there met, he 
attended him to the place where Colonel Philips 
received him. He, the next day, delivered him to 
the Lord Wilmot, who went with him to a house in 


Sussex, recommended by Colonel Gunter, a gentle- 
man of that county, who had served the king in the 
war ; who met him there, and had provided a little 
bark at Brighthelmstone, a small fisher-town ; where 
he went early on board, and, by God's bleasing, 
arrived safely in Normandy. 

The Earl of Southampton, who was then at hia 
house at Titchfield, in Hampshire, had been adver- 
tised of the king's being in the west, and of his 
missing his passage at Lyme, and sent a trusty 
gentleman to those faithful persons in the country, 
who he thought were most like to be employed for 
his escape if he came into those parts, to let them 
know " that he had a ship ready, and if the king 
came to him, he should be safe ;" which advertise- 
ment came to the king the night before he embarked, 
and when his vessel was i-eady. But his majesty 
ever acknowledged the obligation with great kind- 
ness, he being the only person of that condition who 
had the courage to solicit such danger, though all 
good men heartily wished his deliverance. It was 
in* November that the king landed in Normandy, in 
a small creek ; from whence he got to Eoueu, and 
then gave notice to the queen of his arrival, and 
freed his loyal subjectat in all places from their 
dismal apprehensions. 

' About the end uf 

t His subjects. 







I BELIEVE you have too soon heard our misfortunes 
at Worcester ; and it is possible there are amongst 
you that rather blame our proceedings than pity ua 
But if they knew the state of our master^s aSSedrs 
when he was in Scotland and here, they would say 
otherwise. It is most certain that Cromwell would 
not at any time be drawn to hazard a battle in Scot- 
land, but on such great advantages as were no way 
reasonable to be given ; which induced his majesty 
(finding Cromwell to have passed the river Forth 
with most part of his forces, and engaged northward 
towards St Johnston's, thereby giving us the advan- 
tage of four or five days' time) to put in execution 
that which indeed was originally his design from the 
beginning of the campaign ; namely, to march in 
person with his army into England ; not doubting 

* From the Oxford Edition of Lord Clarendon's State Papers, 1 773. 


but this his generous enterprise would give great 
encouragement and opportunity to hia friends to rise 
and free themselves from that yoke of tyranny which 
lay 90 heavj' on them. Our army consisted of be- 
tween ten and eleven thousand horse and foot, with 
sixteen leather guns, all absolutely under the com- 
mand of his majesty ; who marched without any 
opposition, until he came to Appleby, where eleven or 
twelve troops of those horse which Harrison had left 
in England endeavoured to hinder our advancing, 
but were, without great difficulty, forced to retii-e ; 
and so we went on with what diligence might be, and 
without any impeachment, to Wan-ington, where we 
found their army, consisting of about seven thousand 
men, united under Lambert and Harrison, possessed 
of the bridge, which they had almost broken ; from 
which the king, at the head of his first troops, did 
beat them, with loss to them, and great hazard to his 
own person ; and having made up the bridge with 
planks, passed over his whole army ; they retreating in 
such disorder, that besides their loss upon the retreat, 
at least three thousand of theii* men did that night 
disband. The king from thence continued his march 
to Worcester, they not daring to give him so much 
as one alarm all the way. In Worcester, besides the 
garrison, his majesty found five hundred horse, which 
Laml>ert had the night before sent in, which presently 
upon the approach of the army quitted the pkce. 


leaving there the Earl of Shrewsbury, and divers 
prisoners of note, which they had formerly taken. 
The city was neither fortified nor victualled, only an 
old broken wall, and a fort in a manner slighted. Hb 
majesty's intention was not to have staid there, but 
to march on towards London ; but the army was so 
wearied with their hasty and continued march of three 
and twenty days (whereof it rested only one day at 
Penrith, in Cumberland), that it was altogether im- 
possible to advance, and no less necessary to rest and 
refresh them. 

After near a week's stay in Worcester* (in which 
time his majesty used all endeavours to get in Glou- 
cester, Hereford, and some other places, and likewise 
provided for the better arming and clothing of his sol- 
diers), Cromwell appeared with his army near Peny- 
wood (about a mile from Worcester) ; and having 
drawn his left wing towards the river of Severn, his 

* The house at the comer of New Street, on its east side, is 
said to have been the king's quarters whilst at Worcester. The 
tradition is handed down in strong and direct terms by the old- 
est inhabitants of the city, and by the relatives of the proprietors 
of the house at that time, whose names were Durant. The room 
in which the king slept faces the Com Market. Over the en- 
trance of the house is this inscription : " Love God [W. B. 1577, 
R. D.] Honor the King." It is the largest of the old houses of 
the city. Mr Cooksey has, however, stated strong evidence also 
that the king's " secret quarters" were at White Ladies. — GreetCt 
Hutory of Worcester, vol. i. p. 284.— R. H. B. 


majesty sent out a party of a thousand commanded 
foot and two hundred and 6fty horse, to have faDen 
on them at night ; but this design was betrayed by 
— Gives,* a townsman of Worcester (who was after- 
wards hanged), whereupon they drew off in the night 
to their body, leaving only some guards, which were 
beaten away. During this abode at Worcester, Major- 
General Maasie was sent to try his credit about 
Gloucester, and lay within a mile of Upton Bridge, 
which was not so broken, but that the enemy's foot, 
for want of the placing a sentinel, got over upon a 
piece of timber (laid only for the convenience of foot 
passengers), after which a body of their horse did 
also pass the ford ; some of their foot got into the 
church of Upton. Whereupon Massie having the 
alarm, came with some horse, charged their cavalry, 
and beat them back over the river ; then returning 
towards Upton, he found in the church those foot who 
had possessed themselves of it, who fired upon him, 
and these shot him through the left hand, upon divers 
places of his arms, and killed his hoi-se under him ; 
after which he returned to Worcester with his brigade. 
Upon Tuesday, September ", towards night (which 
was the day before the fight), his majesty had intelli- 

• "Thuraday Sept. 9th, 1651. — The Parliament voted Mrs 
Qtvcs /200 ia money, and an annuity of ^200." — Sec Clcttes'a 
PafKt Passaffa, No. 57, p. 376, and No. 64.— R. H. B. 


gence that fifteen hundred horse were gone to Bewdly, 
and that a very strong party of horse and foot and 
cannon were gone to Upton, which made his majesty 
the next morning to call a council of war on the top of 
the steeple at Worcester, whence the country round 
about might best be discovered, there to advise upon 
some action while the enemy was thus divided, and 
part of their forces gone further off The result of 
this consultation was to divide the army into two 
parties ; the one to go upon the one side of Perry- 
wood, and the other on the other, reserving a body 
to fall on and assist where need should require. 
Whilst this was going to be put in execution, his 
majesty discovered a body of the enemy's foot, about 
a thousand, with carriages of poles and planks, and 
some cannon, going towards the water's side (as was 
supposed, and proved afterwards true), with intention 
to make a bridge. And immediately after, espying 
some fire given at the bridge of Powick, he gave order 
to the general officers to put the army in posture, and 
went himself in person out of the town, where he 
found the parties already engaged near Powick, where 
the enemy were making two bridges of boats to pass 
a part of their army over the two rivers, Severn and 
Teyne, so to get to the other side of the town of 
Worcester. The king, leaving there two brigades of 
foot, making near two thousand men, returned to 
put in execution his first design of falling on the 


enemy at Perrywood ; and having led out the army, 
and engaged it himseLC charging at the head thereof 
many several times in person, with great courage 
and success, returned towards Puwick, to command 
two brigades of foot to assist those who were already 
engaged upon that pass. Afterwhich his majesty went 
again towards the main body, which he already foimd 
disordered, and with some difficulty made them stand 
a while ; but, upou the enemy's second firing, they 
were so dispersed that they rallied no more, but gave 
back violently, and forced the king to make into the 
town. The enemy, taking this advantage, fell close 
in with the rear of his majesty's horse, and at the 
same time with their foot seized upon the mount, so 
that our horse were able to stand no longer without 
the walls ; and the king, with much difficulty and 
danger, got into the town at Sudbury gate, about 
the shutting in of the evening. 

The enemy's foot entered the town before their 
horse, and our foot in disorder threw down their 
amis, whereupon the enemy's foot fell to jilunder ; 
but the king's hoi-se which were left in the town 
disputed it from street to street, and made great 
slaughter of the enemy, by reason of their greedi- 
ness after pillage, insomuch that the streets were 
full of dead bodies of horses and men ; till at last, 
over-maatered with numbers, they were forced down 
to the Key. where many rendered themselves prison- 


ers ; only Colonel Wogan about midnight broke 
through with fifty horse, and marched after the 
king, who was some hours before gone out at St 
Martin's gate, and marched northward that night 
with a body of about six himdred horse in disorder 
near thirty miles ; where the next morning, find- 
ing the close pursuit of the enemy, and the country 
altogether unsecure, he consulted for his safety. 

And of his royal person I can give no farther 
account ; but certainly a braver prince never lived, 
having in the day of the fight hazarded his person 
much more than any officer of his army, riding from 
regiment to regiment, and leading them on upon ser- 
vice with all the encouragement (calling every officer 
by his name) which the example and exhortation of 
a magnanimous general could affi)rd ; showing so 
much steadiness of mind and undaimted courage 
in such continual danger, that had not God covered 
his head, and wonderfully preserved his sacred per- 
son, he must in all human reason needs have per- 
ished that day. Duke Hamilton was shot in the 
first charge, which he performed with great honour, 
at Penywood, where the king, in the head of those 
troops, broke through and forced back their horse 
to their body of foot. The duke, I hear, is since 
dead, upon the cutting off" of his leg at Worcester. 
We hope God Almighty will preserve his majesty's 


sacred person, to be an iustrument of his gloiy in 
the performance of great things hereafter, though 
it did not please the divine power at this time to 
give him the victory, which in all likelihood he had 
obtained, had not the enemy so exceedingly over- 
powered him in numbers, they being (as their own 
party gave out) no less than threescore thousand ; 
whereas his majesty's army was not in all eleven 
thousand fighting men, but bo well governed as the 
like hath not been seen ; for in the whole march 
from Scotland to Worcester they never took any- 
thing but what they paid for ; and the discipline 
was so severe and so strictly observed, that divers 
were shot to death only for goiug out of their ranks 
to gather a few apples in an orchard as they passed ; 
and another did undergo the same punishment, only 
for taking a pint of beer without paying for it. It 
is a great comfort to us in this our calamity, that 
his majesty hath taken some private way (with 
only the Lord Wilmot) for his escape ; for had he 
stayed with us, his person had inevitably fallen into 
the hands of the enemy. On Thursday night (which 
was the day after the battle) our Lieutenant- 
Generals Middleton and Lesley left us, or lost us 
willingly, but were afterwards taken, and with Sir 
William Fleming brought prisoners hither. The 
Earl of Derby, Earl Lauderdale. Sir David Cun- 


ningham, and Mr Lane, are prisoners here in the 
Castle ; and many others of quality are kept in 
private houses. They have already condemned 
some; and what will become of us, I yet know 

Endor9ed by Sir Edward Hyde^ 
" Relation of the Business of Worcester.** 





Newmarket, Sunday, October Zd, and 
Tuesday, October 6th, 1680. 

After that the battle was so absolutely lost as to 
be beyond hope of recovery, I began to think of the 
best way of saving myself; and the first thought 
that came into my head was, that, if I could pos- 
sibly, I would get to London, as soon, if not sooner, 
than the news of our defeat could get thither : and 
it being near dark, I talked with some, especially 
with my Lord Rochester, who was then Wilmot, 
about their opinions, which would be the best way 
for me to escape, it being impossible, as I thought, 
to get back into Scotland. I found them mightily 
distracted, and their opinions diflferent^ of the possi- 
bility of getting to Scotland, but not one agreeing 
with mine, for going to London, saving my Lord 
Wihnot ; and the truth is, I did not impart my 
design of going to London to any but my Lord 


Wilmot. But we had such a number of beaten men 
with us, of the horse, that I strove, as soon as ever 
it was dark, to get from them ; and though I could 
not get them to stand by me against the enemy, I 
could not get rid of them, now I had a mind to it. 

So we, that is, my Lord Duke of Buckingham, 
Lauderdale, Derby, Wilmot, Tom Blague, Duke 
Darcey, and several others of my servants, went 
along northward towards Scotland ; and at last 
we got about sixty that were gentlemen and oflS- 
cers, and slipt away out of the high road that goes 
to Lancastershire, and kept on the right hand, let- 
ting all the beaten men go along the great road, 
and ourselves not knowing very well which way to 
go, for it was then too late for us to get to London 
on horseback, riding directly for it ; nor could we 
do it, because there was yet many people of quality 
with us that I could not get rid of 

So we rode through a town short of Woolver- 
hampton, betwixt that and Worcester, and went 
through, there lying a troop of the enemies there 
that night. We rode very quietly through the 
town, they having nobody to watch, nor they sus- 
pecting us no more than we did them, which I 
learned afterwards from a country fellow. 

We went that night about twenty miles, to a 
place called White Ladys, hard by Tong Castle, 
by the advice of Mr Giffard, where we stopt, and 



got some little refreshment of bread and cheese, 
such aa we could get, it being just beginning to 
be day. This White Ladys was a private house 
that Mr Giffard, who was a StafFoidshire man, 
had told me belonged to honest people that lived 

" S. PepjB deairing to know from Fftthor Ilodlestoue what 
he knew touching the brotherhood of the Penderells, as to the 
nnmes and qutilitics of ench of the brothers I He anawei'cd 
that ho was uot very perfect in it, but that as far as he could 
recollect they were thus, — viz. : 

Ist, VVitiiam, the eldest, who lived at Boscobel. 

2d, Joho, who lived at White Ladies, a kind of woodward 
there, all the brothers living iu the wood, having little farma 
there, and labouring for their living, iu cutting dowu of wood, 
and watching the wood from being stolen, having the benefit of 
some cow grass to live on. Father HodJcstono further told me, 
that here lived one Mr Walker, an old gentleman, a priest, 
whither the poor Catholics in that neighbourhood r<«orted for 
devotiou, and whom Father Hodtestoue used now and then to 
visit, and say prayers, and do holy offices with. Upon which 
score it was, that Joho Penderell happened to know him in the 
highway, when the said John renderell was looking out for a 
hiding-place for my Lord Wilmot. This John was he, aa Father 
Hodlestoue says, that took the most pains of all tlie brothers. 

3d, Iticlmrd, commonly called among them Trusty Richard, 
who lived the Eaiue kind of life with the rest. 

4th, Humphrey, ft miller, who has a Eon at this day [1C80] 
footman to the queen, to be heai'xl of at Somerset House. 

fith, George, another brother, who was in some degree less 
or more, as he remembers, employed in this service. He 
thinks there waa a sixth brother, but of that is not certain. — 



And just as we came thither, there came in a 
country fellow, that told us there were three thou- 
sand of our horse just hard by Tong Castle, upon 
the heath, all in disorder, under David LesUe, and 
some other of the general officers : upon which 
there were some of the people of quality that were 
with me who were very earnest that I should go 
to him, and endeavour to go into Scotland ; which 
I thought was absolutely impossible, knowing very 
well that the coimtry would all rise upon ub, and 
that men who had deserted me when they were in 
good order, would never stand to me when they 
have been beaten. 

This made me take the resolution of putting my- 
self into a disguise, and endeavouring to get a-foot 
to London, in a country fellow's habit, with a pair 
of ordinary gray-cloth breeches, a leathern doublet, 
and a green jerkin, which I took in the house of 
White Ladys. I also cut my hair very short, and 
flung my clothes into a privy-house, that nobody 
might see that any body had been stripping them- 
selves.^ I acquainting none with my resolution of 

* Tliere were six brothers of the Penderells, who all of them 
knew the secret ; and (as I have since learned from one of them) 
the man in whose house I changed my clothes came to one of 
them about two days after, and asking him where I was, told 
him that they might get £1000 if they would tell, because there 
was that sum laid upon my head. But this Penderell was so 


going to London but my Lord AFilmot, they all 
desiring me not to acquaint them with what I 
intended to do, because they knew not what they 
might be forced to confess ; on which consideration 
they, with one voice, begged of me not to tell them 
what I intended to do. 

So all the persons of quality, and officers who 
were with me (except my Lord Wilmot, with whom 
a place waa agreed upon for our meeting at London, 
if we escaped, and who endeavoured to go on horse- 
back, in regard, as I think, of his being too big to 
go on foot), were resolved to go and join with the 

honeat, that, though ho at that time knew where I was, he bad 
him Ikave a core \vhat he did ; for, tliat 1 being gone out of nil 
reach, if they should uow discover I had ever been there, they 
would get nothing but hanging for tlieir pains. I would not 
change my clothes at any of the Fenderell's houses, because 1 
meant to make further use of them, and they might he bus- 
pected ; but ratlier chose to do it in a house wliere they were 
not Papists, 1 neither knowing them, nor to this day what the 
mnn was at whose house 1 did it. But the Ponderella have 
since ende&voured to mitigate the busiucss of their being 
tempted by their neighboui- to discover me ; but one of them 
did certainly declare it to me at that time — Kino. 

Concerning one Yntes, that married a sister of one of the 
Pcndcrelli!, Father Hodtestoue says, he has heard that the old 
cearse sliirt, which the king had on, did belong to him ; and 
cousequeutly that the king did shift himself at his house ; bnt 
believes that the rest of the king's clothes were William Pen- 
dorell's, ho being a tail mau, and the breeches the king had on 
beiug very long at the knew. — Uodl, 


three thousand disordered horse, thinkmg to jget 
away with them to Scotland. But, as I did before 
believe, they were not marched six miles, after they 
got to them, but they were all routed by a single 
troop of horse ; which shows that my opinion was 
not wrong in not sticking to men who had run 

As soon as I was disguised I took with me a 
country fellow, whose name was Richard Penderell, 
whom" Mr GiflFard had undertaken to answer for 
to be an honest man. He was a Eoman Catholic, 
and I chose to trust them, because I knew they had 
hiding holes for priests, that I thought I might 
make use of in case of need. 

I was no sooner gone (being the next morning 
after the battle, and then broad day) out of the 
house with this country fellow, but being in a great 
wood, I set myself at the edge of the wood, near 
the highway that was there, the better to see who 
came after us, and whether they made any search 
after the runaways, and I immediately saw a troop 
of horse coming by, which I conceived to be the 
same troop that beat our three thousand horse ; but 
it did not look hke a troop of the army's, but of the 
militia, for the fellow before it did not look at all 
like a soldier. 

In this wood I staid all day, without meat or 
drink ; and by great good fortune it rained all the 


time, which hindered them, as I believe, from com- 
ing into the wood to search for men that might be 
fled thither. And one thing is remarkable enough, 
that those with whom I have since spoken, of them 
that joined with the horse upon the heath, did say- 
that it rained little or nothing with them all the 
day, but only in the wood where I was, this contri- 
buting to my safety. 

As I was in the wood 1 talked with the fellow 
about getting towards London ; and askiug him 
many questions about wliat gentlemen he knew, I 
did not find he knew any man of quality in the 
way towards London. And the truth is, my mind 
changed as I lay in the wood, and 1 resolved of 
another way of making my escape ; which was, to 
get over the Severn into Wales, and so to get either 
to Swansey, or some other of the sea-towns that I 
knew had commerce with France, to the end I 
might get over that way, as being a way that I 
thouglit none would suspect my taking ; besides 
that, I remembered several honest gentlemen that 
were of my acquaintance in Wales. 

So that night, as soon as it was dark, Richard 
Pendcrell and I took our journey on foot towards 
the Severn, intending to pass over a ferry, half-way 
between liridgenorth and Shrewsbiuy. But as we 
were going in the night, we came by a mill where I 
heard some people talking (memorandum, that I 


had got some bread and cheese the night before at 
one of the Penderell's houses, I not going in), and as 
we conceived it was about twelve or one o'clock at 
night ; and the country fellow desired me not to 
answer if any body should ask me any questions, 
because I had not the accent of the country. 

Just as we came to the mill, we could see the 
miller, as I believe, sitting at the mill door, he 
being in white clothes, it being a very dark night. 
He called out, "Who goes there?" Upon which 
Richard Penderell answered, " Neighbours going 
home," or some such-like words. Whereupon the 
miller cried out, " If you be neighbours, stand, or 
I will knock you down." Upon which, we believing 
there was company in the house, the fellow bade 
me follow him close, and he run to a gate that 
went up a dirty lane, up a hill, and opening the 
gate, the miller cried out, " Rogues ! rogues ! " 
And thereupon some men came out of the mill 
after us, which I believe were soldiers : so we fell 
a-ninning, both of us up the lane, as long as we 
could run, it being very deep and very dirty, till at 
last I bade him leap over a hedge, and lie still to 
hear if any body followed us ; which we did, and 
continued lying down upon the ground about half 
an hour, when, hearing nobody come, we continued 
our way on to the village upon the Severn, where 
the fellow told me there was an honest gentleman. 


one Mr Woolfe, that lived in that town," where I 
might be with great safety, for that he had hiding- 
holes for priests. But I woiild not go iu till I knew 
a little of his mind, whether he would receive so 
dangerous a guest as me, and therefore stayed in a 
field, under a hedge, by a great tree, commanding 
him not to say it was I, but only to ask Mr Woolfe 
whether he would receive an English gentleman, a 
person of quality, to hide him the next day, till we 
coidd travel again by night, for I durst not go but 
by night. 

Mr Woolfe, when the country fellow told him 
that it waa one that had escaped from the battle 
of Worcester, said that, for his part, it was so 
dangerous a thing to harbour any body that was 
known, that he would not venture his neck for any 
man, unless it were the king Iiimself. Upon which, 
Kchard Penderell, very indiscreetly, and without 
any leave, told him that it was I. Upon which Mr 
Woolfe replied, that he should be very ready to 
venture all he had in the world to secure me. 
Upon which Richard PendereU came and told rae 
what he had done, at which I was a little troubled ; 
but then there was no remedy, the day being just 
coming on, and I must either venture that or run 
Bome greater danger. 

8 Woolfe lived at Mudyly.— Hodl. 


So I came into the house a back way, where I 
found Mr Woolfe, an old gentleman, who told me 
he was very sorry to see me there, because there 
was two companies of the militia foot at that time 
in arms in the town, and kept a guard at the ferry, 
to examine every body that came that way, in ex- 
pectation of catching some that might be making 
their escape that way ; and that he durst not put 
me into any of the hiding-holes of his house, be- 
cause they had been discovered, and consequently, 
if any search should be made, they would certainly 
repair to these holes ; and that therefore I had no 
other way of security but to go into his bam, and 
there lie behind his com and hay. So after he had 
given us some cold meat that was ready, we, with- 
out making any bustle in the house, went and lay 
in the barn all the next day ; when, towards even- 
ing, his son, wlio had been prisoner at Shrewsbury, 
an honest man, was released, and came home to his 
father s house. And as soon as ever it began to be 
a little darkish, Mr Woolfe and his son brought us 
meat into the barn ; and there we discoursed with 
them whether we might safely get over the Severn 
into Wales, which they advised me by no means to 
adventure upon, because of the strict guards that 
were kept all along the Severn, where any passage 
could be found, for preventing any body's escaping 
that way into Wales. 



Upon this I took resolution of going that nJght 
the very same ^'ay back again to Penderell's house, 
where I knew I should hear some news what was 
become of my Lord Wilraot, and resolved again 
upon going for London. 

So we set out as soon as it was dark. But, as 
we came by the mill again, we had no mind to be 
questioned a second time there ; and therefore ask- 
ing Richard Penderell whether he coidd swim or no, 
and how deep the river was, he told me it was a 
scurvy river, not easy to be past in all places, 
and that he could not swim. So I told him, that 
the river being but a little one, I would undertake 
to help him over. Li^pon which we went over some 
closes to the river aide, and I, entering the river first, 
to see whether I could myself go over, who knew 
how to swim, found it was but a little above my 
middle ; and thereupon taking Kichaid Penderell 
by tbe hand, I helped him over. 

Which being done, we went on our way to one of 
Penderell's brothers (his house being not far from 
White Ladys), who had been guide to my Lord 
Wilmot, and we beheved might, by that time, be 
come back again ; for my Lord Wilmot intended 
to go to London upon his own horse. "When I 
came to this house. I inquired where my Lord Wil- 
mot was ; it being now towards morning, and hav- 
ing travelled these two nights ou foot, Penderell's 


brother told me that he had conducted him to a 
very honest gentleman^s house, one Mr Pitchcroft,* 
not far from Woolyerhampton,t a Roman Catholia 
I asked him, what news 1 He told me that there 
was one Major Careless in the house that was that 
countryman ; whom I knowing, he having been a 
major in our army, and made his escape thither, a 
Roman Catholic also, I sent for him into the room 
where I was, and consulting with him what we 
should do the next day. He told me that it would 
be very dangerous for me either to stay in that 
house or to go into the wood, there being a great 
wood hard by Boscobel ; that he knew but one way 
how to pass the next day, and that was, to get up 
into a great oak, in a pretty plain place, where we 
see round about us ; for the enemy would certainly 
search at the wood for people that had made their 
escape. Of which proposition of his I approving, we 

* The king is mistaken in calling Mr WTiitgrave Mr Pitch- 
croft. Pitchcroft is the name of a very large meadow, contiguous 
to the city of Worcester, where part of the king's troops lay on 
the night before the battle, and which his majesty might have a 
distant view of from the top of the tower of the cathedral, where 
he held a council just before the unfortunate engagement. It is 
not to be wondered at, if, after the interval of twenty- nine years, 
the king should mistake the name of a place for the name of a 
person. — Pepys. 

t Mr Whitgrave lived at Mosely. — Hodl. 


{that is to say. Careless and I) went, and carried up 
with us some victuals for the whole day — viz. bread, 
cheese, small beer, and nothing else, and got up into 
a great oak that had been lopt some three or four 
years before, and being grown out again, very bushy 
and thick, could not be seen through, and here we 
staid all the day, I having, in the mean time, sent 
Penderell's brother to Mr Pitchcroft's, to know 
whether my Lord Wilmot was there or no,* and 
liad word brought me by him at night that my lord 
was there, that there was a very secure hiding hole 
in Mr Pitchcroft's house, and that he desired me to 
come thither to him. 

Memorandum, That while we were in this tree 
we see soldiers going up and down, in the tliicket 
of the wood, searching for persons escaped, we see- 
ing them now and then peeping out of the wood. 

That night Richard Penderell and I weut to 
Mr Pitchcroft's, about sis or seven miles off, where 
I found the gentleman of the house, and an old 
granilmother of his, and Father Hurlston, f who 
had then the care, as governor, of bringing up two 

• 1 did not depend upon finding Lord Wilmot, but sent only 
to know what wiia become of him ; for he and I bad agreed to 
meet at London, at the Three Cranee in the Tintry, and to iu- 
qiiiro for Will- ABbbumatn. — Einq. 

+ Hie name is Ilodloatone, aud his grandfather was half 


young gentlemen, who, I think, were Sir John 
Preston and his brother, they being boys.* 

Here I spoke with my Lord Wilmot, and sent 
him away to Colonel Lane's,t about five or six 
miles oflf, to see what means could be found for 
my escaping towards London ; who told my lord, 

brother, by a second venter, to the ancester of Sir William Hodle* 
stone, who, with eight brothers, raised two regiments for the 
king, and served with them. Father Hodlestone observes very 
particularly, as one extraordinary instance of Go<Vs providence 
in this affair, the contingency of his first meeting with John 
Penderell, occasioned by one Mr Garret s coming, the Thursday 
after the fight, out of Warwickshire, from Mrs Morgan, graod- 
mother to little Sir John Preston, with some new linen for Sir 
John, and some for Father Hodlestone himself, namely, six new 
shirts, one whereof he gave to the king, and another to my Lord 
Wilmot.J— HoDL. 

* This Sir John Preston's father was Sir John Preston who 
raised a regiment for the king, and for so doing had his estate 
given away by the parliament to Pen. This Sir John Preston, 
the son, is since dead, and his estate fallen to his brother, Sir 
Tliomas Preston, mentioned in Gates's narrative of the plot, 
who married my Lord Molineux his daughter, by whom he had 
two daughters, great heiresses, himself being become a Jesuit. 
— Pep. 

t Colonel Lane lived at Bentely. — Hodl. 

:J: By the Stuart jvipcrs, it appears that Father Hodlestone not only survived 
the Ilcstonvtion» but even Khij^ Cliarlos himself, and was the ecclesiastic who 
W!is sinu^rK^^**^ "'^o the royal chamber to administer extreme unction to that 
monarch in his last moments. Mr Pulman, of the College of Arms, who has 
examined these papers, is my authority for this. — R. H. B. 


after some consultation thereon, that be had a sister 
that had a very fair pretence of going liard by 
Bristol, to a cousin of hers that was married to one 
Mr Norton, who lived two or three miles towards 
Bristol, on Somersetshire side, and she might cany 
me thither as her man, and from Bristol I might 
find shipping to get out of Enghmd.* 

So the next night + I went away to Colonel 
Lane's, where I changed my clothes \ into a little 

* The kiug, after having changed liis lisen and stockings at 
Mr 'Whitgrave's, said, that lie found himself at more easo, was 
fit for a now march, and if it would please God ever to blesa 
him witli ten or twelve thousand men of a mind, aud reBolved 
to fight, he should not doubt but to drive those rogues out of 
the land. — Hodl. 

t I think I stayed two days nt Pitchcroft's [WTiitgniTe's], 
but Father Hurlstone can tell better thau I. — KiKO. 

t The habit that the king cnme in to Father Hodlestone was 
a very greasy old gray steeple-crowned hat, with the brims 
tunied up, without lining or hatband, the sweat appearing two 
inches deep tbrough it, round the band place ; a green cloth 
jump coat, threadbare, even to the threads being worn white, 
and breeches of tbe same, with long knees down to the garter ; 
with un old sweaty leathern doublet, a pair of white flannel 
■tockings next to his legs, which tbe king said were his hoot 
itockingB, their tops being cut ofT to prevent their being dis- 
covered, and upon them a pair of old greeu yam stockings, all 
worn and darned at the knees, with their feet cut off; which 
hut he said he had of Mr Woolfe, who persuaded him thereto, 
to hide his other white ones, for fear of being observed ; his 
shoes were old, all Blaslied for the case of his feet, and full of 


better habit, like a serving-man, being a kind of 
gray-cloth suit ; and the next day Mrs Lane and I 
took our journey towards Bristol, resolving to lie 
at a place called Long Marson, in the vale of 

But we had not gone two hours on our way but 
the mare I rode on cast a shoe ; so we were forced 
to ride to get another shoe at a scattering village, 

whose name begins with something like Long . 

And as I was holding my horse's foot, I asked the 
smith what news. He told me that there was no 
news that he knew of, since the good news of the beat- 
ing the rogues of the Scots. I asked him whether 

gravel, with little rolls of paper between his toes, which he 
said he was advised to, to keep them from galling ; he had an 
old coarse shirt, patched both at the neck and hands, of that 
very coai*so sort which, in that country, go by the name of 
hogging-shirts ; which shirt, P^ither Hodlestone shifting from 
the king, by giving him one of his new ones, Father Hodle- 
stone sent afterwards to Mr Sherwood, now Lord Abbot of 
Lambspring, in Germany, a person well known to the Duke 
[of Yorke], who begged this shirt of Father Hodlestone ; his 
handkerchief was a very old one, torn, and very coarse, and 
being daubed with the king's blood from his nose, Father Hodle- 
stone gave it to a kinswoman of his, one Mrs Brathwayte, who 
kept it with great veneration, as a remedy for the king's evil ; 
he had no gloves, but a long thorn-stick, not very strong, but 
crooked three or four several ways, in his hand ; his hair cut 
short up to his ears, and hands coloured ; his majesty refusing 
to have any gloves, when Father Hodlestone offered him some, 
as also to change his stick. — Pep. 


there was none of the English taken that joined with 
the Scots. He answered that he did not hear that that 
rogue Charles Stuart was taken ; but some of the 
others, he said, were taken, but iiot Charles Stuart. 
I told him, that if that rogue were taken he deserved 
to be hanged more than all the rest, for bringing in 
the Scots. Upon which he said that I spoke like 
an honest man, and so we parted. 

Here it is to be noted, that we had in company 
with us Mrs Lane's sister, who was married to one 

Mr , she being then going to my Lord Paget's 

hard by Windsor, so as we were to part, as accord- 
ingly we did, at Stratford-upon-Avon. 

But a mile before we came to Stratford-upon- 
Avon, we espied upon the way a troop of horse,* 
whose riders were alighted, and the horses eating 
some grass by the way-side, staying there, as I 
thought, while their muster-master was providing 
their quarters. Mrs Lane's sister's husband, who 
went along with her as far as Stratford, seeing this 
troop of horse just in our way, said, that for his 
part he would not go by them, for he had been 
once or twice beaten by some of the parliament 
soldiers, and he would not run the venture again. 
I hearing him say so, begged Mrs Lane, softly in 

• A poor old woman that was gleaning in the field cried out, 
of her own accord, without occasion given her, " Master, don't 
you see a troop of horse before you ? '*— Kino. 


her ear, that we might not turn back, but go on, 
if they should see us turn. But all she could say 
in the world would not do, but her brother-in-law 
turned quite round, and went into Stratford another 
way. The troop of horse being then just getting 
on horseback, about twice twelve score oflF, and, as 
I told her, we did meet the troop just but in the 
town of Stratford. 

But then her brother and we parted, he going his 
way, and we ours towards Long Marson, where we 
lay at a kinsman's, I think, of Mrs Lane's ; neither 
the said kinsman, nor her afore-mentioned brother- 
in-law, knowing who I was. 

The next night we lay at Cirencester, and so 
from thence to Mr Norton's house, beyond Bristol ; 
where as soon as ever I came, Mrs Lane called the 
butler of the house, a very honest fellow, whose 
name was Pope, and had served Tom Jermyn, a 
groom of my bed-chamber when I was a boy at 
Eichmond, she l^ade him to take care of William 
Jackson, for that was my name, as having been 
lately sick of an ague, whereof she said I was 
still weak, and not quite recovered. And the 
truth is, my late fatigues and want of meat had in- 
deed made me look a little pale ; besides this. Pope 
had been a trooper in the king my father's army ; 
but I was not to be known in that house for any- 
thing but Mrs Lane's servant. 


I Memorandum, That one Mr Lassells, a cousin of 

Mrs Lane's, went all tlie way with us from Colonel 
Lane's, on horseback, single, I riding before Mrs 

Pope the butler took great care of me that night, 
I not eating, as I should have done, with the servants, 
upon account of my not being well. 

The next morning I arose pretty early, having a 
very good stomach, and went to the buttery hatch 
to get my breakfast, where I found Pope and two or 
three other men in the room, and we all fell to eating 
bread and butter, to which he gave us very good ale 
and sack. And as I was sitting there, there was one 

I that looked like a country fellow sat just by me, who, 
talking, gave so particular an account of the battle 
of Worcester to the rest of the company, that I con- 
cludeil he must be one of Cromwell's soldiers. But 
I asking him, how he came to give so good an account 
of that battle ^ He told me he was in the king's 
regiment, by which I thought he meant one Ciolonel 
King's regiment. But questioning him further, I 
perceived he had been in my regiment of guardp, in 
Major Bi'oughton's company, that was my major in 
the battle. I asked him what a kind of man 1 was ? 
To which he answered by describing exactly both 
my clothes and my horse ; and then looking upon 
me, he told me that the king was at least three 
fingeca taller than I. Upon which I made what 


haste I could out of the buttery, for fear he should 
indeed know me, as being more afraid when I knew 
he was one of our own soldiers, than when I took 
him for one of the enemjr's. 

So Pope and I went into the hall, and just as we 
came into it Mrs Norton was coming by through it ; 
upon which I, plucking off my hat, and standing with 
my hat in my hand as she past by, that Pope looked 
very earnestly in my face. But I took no notice of 
it, but put on my hat again, and went away, walking 
out of the house into the field. 

I had not been out half an hour, but coming back 
I went up to the chamber where I lay ; and just as 
I came thither, Mr Lassells came to me, and in a 
little trouble said, " What shall we do ? I am afraid 
Pope knows you, for he says very positively to me 
that it is you, but I have denyed it." Upon which 
I presently, without more ado, asked him whether he 
was a very honest man or no. Whereto he answer- 
ing me, that he knew him to be so honest a fellow 
that he durst tnist him with his life, as having been 
always on our side, I thought it better to trust him, 
than go away leaving that suspicion upon him ; and 
thereupon sent for Pope, and told him that I was 
very glad to meet him there, and would trust him 
with my life as an old acquaintance. Upon which, 
being a discreet fellow, he asked me what I intended 
to do ; " for," says he, ** I am extremely happy I 


know you, for otherwUe you might run great dauger 
in this house. For though my master aud mistress 
are good people, yet there are at this time one or two 
ia it that are very great rogues, and I think I can 
be useful to you in any thing you ■will command me." 
Upou which I told him my design of getting a ship 
if possible at Bristol ; and to that end bade him go 
that very day immediately to Bristol, to see if there 
were any ships going either to Spain or France, 
that I might get a passage away in. 

I told him also that my Lord Wdmot was coming 
to meet me here : for he and I had agreed at Colonel 
Lane's, and were to meet this very day at Norton's. 
Upon which Pope told me, that it was most fortu- 
nate that he knew me. and had heard this fi-om me, 
for that if my Lord Wilniot should have come hither, 
he v/ould have been most certainly known to several 
people in the house, and therefore he would go. And 
accordingly went out, and met my Lord Wilmot a 
mile or two off the house, not far off, where he lodged 
him till it was night, and then brought him hither 
by a back door into my chamber, I still passing for 
a 8er\-ing-man ; and Lassells and I lay in one cham- 
ber, he knowing all the way who I was. 

So after Pope had been at Bristol to inquire for a 
ship, but could hear of none ready to depart beyond 
sea sooner than within a month, which was too long 
for me to stay thereabout, I betook myself to the 


advising afresli with my Lord Wilmot and Pope what 
was to be done. And the latter telling me that 
there lived somewhere in that country, upon the 
edge of Somersetshire, at Trent, within two miles of 
Sherburn, Frank Windham, the knight marshall's 
brother, who being my old acquaintance, and a very 
honest man, I resolved to go to his house. 

But the night before we were to go away, we had 
a misfortune that might have done us much pre- 
judice ; for Mrs Norton, who was big with child, fell 
into labour, and miscarried of a dead child, and was 
very ill, so that we could not tell how in the world 
to find an excuse for Mrs Lane to leave her cousin 
in that condition ; and indeed it was not safe to 
stay longer there, where there was so great resort 
of disaffected idle people. 

At length, consulting with Mr Lassells, I thought 
the best way to counterfeit a letter from her father's 
house, old Mr Lane's, to tell her that her father was 
extremely ill, and commanded her to come away im- 
mediately, for fear that she should not otherwise find 
him alive ; which letter Pope delivered so well while 
they were all at supper, and Mrs Lane playing her 
part so dexterously, that all believed old Mr Lane to 
be indeed in great danger, and gave his daughter the 
excuse to go away with me the very next morning 


Accordingly, the next morning," we went directly 
to Trent to Frank Windliama bouse, and lay that 
night at Castle Gary, and the next uight came to 
Trent, where I had appointed my Lord Wilmot to 
meet me, whom I still took care not to keep with me, 
but gent him a little before, or left to come after me.t 

When we came to Trent, my Lord Wilmot and I 
advised with Frank Windham whether he had any 
acquaintance at any sea-town upon the coast of 
Doraet or Devonshire ; who told me that he was very 
well acquainted with Gyles Strangways, and that he 
would go directly to him, and inform himself whether 
he might not have some acquaintance at Weymouth 
or Lyme, or some of those parts. 

But Gylea Strangways proved not to ha^'e any, as 
having been long absent from all those places, as 
not daring to stir abroad, having been always faith- 
ful to the king ; but he desired Frank Windham to 
try what he coidd do therein, it being unsafe for him 
to be found busy upon the sea-coast. But withal he 
sent me three hundred broad pieces, which he knew 
were necessary for me in the condition I was now in ; 
for I durst carry no money about me in those mean 

» I atud flbout two days tit Pope's [Laasell's.] — KiKO. 

t I oould never get my Lord Wilmot to put on uny disguise, 
he nyiog that he should look frightfully iu it, aud therefere did 
never [lut on any. — Kiso. 


clothes, and my hair cut short, but about ten or 
twelve shillings in silver. 

Frank Windham upon this went himself to Lyme, 
and spoke with a merchant there to hire a ship for 
my transportation, being forced to acquaint him that 
it was I that was to be carried out. The merchant 

undertook it, his name being , and 

accordingly hired a vessel for France, appointing a 
day for my coming to Lyme to embark. And ac- 
cordingly we set out from Frank Windham's ; and, 
to cover the matter the better, I rode before a cousin 
of Frank Windham's, one Mrs Judith Coningsby, 
still going by the name of William Jackson.* 

Memorandum, That one day, during my stay at 
Trent, I hearing the bells ring (the church being hard 
by Frank Windham's house), and seeing a company 
got together in the churchyard, I sent down the maid 
of the house, who knew me, to inquire what the mat- 
ter was ; who returning, came up and told me that 
there \vas a rogue a trooper come out of Cromwell's 
army that was telling the people that he had killed 
me, and that that was my buff coat which he had 
then on ; upon which, most of the village being 
fanatics, they were ringing the bells, and making a 
bonfire for joy of it. 

* At Trent, Mrs Lane and Lassells went home. I stayed some 
four or five days at Frank Windham's house, and was known to 
most of his family. — Kino. 


Tliis mercbaut having appointed us to come to 
LjTne, wo, tiz. myself, my Lord Wilmot, Frauk 
Windham, Mrs Coningsby, and oue servant of Frank 
Windham's, whose name was Peter, were directed 
from him to a little village hard by Lyme, the vessel 
being to come out of the cobb at Lyme, and come to 
a little creek that was just by this village, whitlier 
we went, and to seud their boat ashore to take us in 
at the said creek, and carry us over to France, the 
wind being then very good at north, 

)So we sat up that night, expecting the ship to 
come out, but she failed us. Upon which I sent 
Frauk Windham's man, Peter, and my Lord Wilmot, 
to Lyme the next morning, to know the reason of it. 
But we were miich troubled how to pass away our 
time the next day, till we could have an answer. 
At last we resolved to go to a place called Burport, 
about four miles from LjTne, and there stay till my 
Lord Wilmot should bring us news whether the vessel 
could be had the next night or no, and the reason of 
her last night's failure. 

So Frank Windham and Mrs Coningsby and I 
went in the morning, on horseback, away to Bur- 
port ; and just as we came into the town, I could 
see the streets full of redcoats, Cromwell's soldiers, 
being a regiment of Colonel Haynes's, viz. fifteen 
hundred men going to embark to take Jersey, at 
which Frank Windham was very much startled, and 


asked me what I would do. I told him that we 
must go impudently into the best inn in the town, 
and take a chamber there, as the only thing to be 
done ; because we should otherwise miss my Lord 
Wilmot, in case we went anywhere else, and that 
would be very inconvenient both to him and me. So 
we rode directly into the best inn of the place, and 
found the yard very full of soldiers. I alighted, and 
taking the horses, thought it the best way to go 
blundering in among them, and lead them through 
the middle of the soldiers into the stable ; which I 
did, and they were very angry with me for my rude- 

As soon as I came into the stable I took the bridle 
off the horses, and called the hostler to me to help 
me, and to give the horses some oats. And as the 
hostler was helping me to feed the horses, " Sure, 
sir," says the hostler, " I know your face ? '' which 
was no very pleasant question to me. But I thought 
the best way was to ask him where he had lived — 
whether he had always lived there or no ? He told me 
that he was but newly come thither; that he was born 
in Exeter, and had been hostler in an inn there, hard 
by one Mr Potter's, a merchant, in whose house I had 
lain in the time of the war : so I thought it best to 
give the fellow no further occasion of thinking where 
he had seen me, for fear he should guess right at last ; 
therefore I told him, "Friend, certainly you have 



seen me then at filr Potter's, for I served him a good 
whOe, above a year." *" Oh ! " says he, " then I re- 
member you a boy there; " and with that wa3 put 
o£F from thiukicg any more on it, but desu-ed that 
we might driuk a pot of beer together, which I ex- 
cused by saying that I must go wait on my master, 
and get his dinner ready for him ; but told him that 
my master was going for London, and would return 
about three weeks hence, when he would lie there, 
and I would not fail to driuk a pot with him. 

As soon as we had dined, my Lord Wilmot came 
into the town from Lyme, but went to another inn. 
Upou which we rode out of town, as if we had gone 
upon the road towards London ; and when we were 
got two miles off, my Lord Wilmot overtook us (he 
having observed, while in town, where we were), and 
told us that he believed the ship might be ready next 
night, but that there had been some mistake betwixt 
him and the master of the ship. 

Upou which, I not thinking it fit to go back again 
to the same place where we had eat up the night be- 
fore, we went to a village called about four 

miles iu the country above Lyme, and sent in Peter to 
know of the merchant whether the ship would be 
ready. But the master of the ship, doubting that it 
was some dangerous employmeut be was hired upon, 
absolutely refused the merchant, and would not carry 
us over. 


Whereupon we were forced to go back again to 
Frank Windham's to Trent, where we might be in 
some safety till we had hired another ship. 

As soon as we came to Frank Windham's, I sent 
away presently to Colonel Robert Philips, who lived 
then at SaUsbury, to see what he could do for the 
getting me a ship ; which he undertook very willingly, 
and had got one at Southampton, but by misfortune 
she was, amongst others, prest to transport their 
soldiers to Jersey, by which she failed lis also. 

Upon this I sent further into Sussex, where Eobin 
Philips knew one Colonel Gunter, to see whether he 
could hire a ship any where upon that coast. And 
not thinking it convenient for me to stay much longer 
at Frank Windham's (where I had been in all about a 
fortnight, and was become known to very many), I 
went directly away to a widow gentlewoman's house, 
one Mrs Hyde, some four or five miles from Salisbury, 
where I came into the house just as it was almost 
dark, with Robin Philips only, not intending at first 
to make myself known. But just as I alighted at the 
door, Mrs Hyde knew me, though she had never seen 
mc but once in her life, and tliat was with the king 
my father, in the army, when we marched by Salis- 
bury, some years before, in the time of the war ; but 
she being a discreet woman took no notice at that 
time of me, I passing only for a friend of Robin 
Philips', by whose advice I went thither. 


At supper there was with us Frederick Hyde, since 
a judge, and his sister-in-law, a widow, Eobin Philips, 
myself, and Dr Henshaw, since Bishop of London, 
whom I had appointed to meet me there. 

While we were at supper, I observed Mrs Hyde 
and her brother Frederick to look a little earnestly 
at me, which led me to believe they might know 
me. But I was not at all startled by it, it having 
been my purpose to let her know who I was ; and 
accordingly after supper Mrs Hyde came to me, and 
I discovered myself to her, who told me she had a 
very safe place to hide me in, till we knew whether 
our ship was ready or no. But she said it was not 
safe for her to trust any body but herself and her 
sister, and therefore advised me to take my horse 
next morning, and make as if I quitted the house, 
and return again about night ; for she would order 
it so that all her servants and every body should be 
out of the house but herself and her sister, whose 
name I remember not. 

So Robin Philips and I took our horses, and went 
as far as Stonehenge ; and there we staid looking 
upon the stones for some time,* and returned 

• The king and Colonel Phelips rode about the Downes, and 
took a view of the wonder of the country, Stonehenge ; where 
they found that the king's arithmetic gave the lie to the fabulous 
tale that those stones cannot be told alike twice together. — 


back again to Hale (the place where Mrs Hyde lived) 
about the hour she appointed ; where I went up into 
the hiding-hole, that was very convenient and safe, 
and staid there all alone (Robin Philips then going 
away to Salisbury) some four or five days. 

After four or five days' stay, Robin Philips came 
to the house, and acquainted me that a ship was 
ready provided for me at Shoreham by Colonel 
Gunter. Upon which, at two o'clock in the morning, 
I went out of the house by the back way, and, with 
Robin Philips, met Colonel Gunter and my Lord 
Wilmot together, some fourteen or fifteen miles oS, 
on my way towards Shoreham, and were to lodge 
that night at a place called Hambleton, seven miles 
from Portsmouth, because it was too long a journey 
to go in one day to Shoreham. And here we lay at 
a house of a brother-in-law of Colonel Gunter's, one 

Mr , where I was not to be known (I being still 

in the same grey-cloth suit, as a serving-man), though 
the master of the house was a veiy honest poor man, 
who, while we were at supper, came in, he hav- 
ing been all the day playing the good-fellow at an 
ale-house in the town, and taking a stool, sat down 
with us ; where his brother-in-law, C'Olonel Gunter, 
talking very feelingly concerning Cromwell and all 
his party, he went and whispered his brother in the 
ear, and asked whether I was not some roundheaded 
rogue s son, for I looked very suspiciously. Upon 


which. Colonel Gunter answering for me, that he 
might trust his life iu my hands, he came and took 
me by the hand, and drinking a good glass of beer 
to me, called me brother roundhead. 

About that time my Lord Southampton, that was 
then at Titchfield, suspecting, for what reason I don't 
know, that it was possible I might be in the country, 
sent either to Robin Philips, or Dr Henshaw, to offer 
his service if he could serve me in my escape. But 
being then provided of a ship, I would not put him 
to the danger of having anything to do with it. 

The next day we went to a place, four miles off of 
Shorehara, called Brighthelmstone, where we were to 
meet with the master of the ship, as thinking it more 
convenient for us to meet there than just at Shore- 
ham, where the ship was. So when we came to the 
inn at Brighthelmstone, we met with one [Mausel], 
the merchant, who had hired the vessel, in company 
with her master,* the merchant only knowing me, aa 
having hired her only to carry over a person of 
quality that was escaped from the battle of Worces- 
ter, without naming any body. And as we were all 
sitting together (viz. Robin Philips, my Lord ff ilmot. 
Colonel Guotcr, the merchant, the master, and I), I 
observed that the master of the vessel looked very 

* Mr FiUDcis Manael, the faithful merchant who provided the 
Uu-k. Captniu Tetteinhall, the rauster of the bark.— Phbl. 


much upon me. And as soon as we had supped, 
calling the merchant aside, the master told him that 
he had not dealt fairly with him ; for though he had 
given him a very good price for the carrying over 
that gentleman, yet he had not been clear with him ; 
'* for," says he, " he is the king, and I very well know 
him to be so." Upon which, the merchant denying 
it, saying that he was mistaken, the master answered, 
" I know him very well, for he took my ship, together 
with other fishing vessels at Brighthelmstone, in the 
year 1648'' (which was when I commanded the king 
my father's fleet, and I very kindly let them go 
agaiu). "But," says he to the merchant, "be not 
troubled at it, for I think I do God and iny country 
good service in preserving the king, and, by the grace 
of God, I will venture my life and all for him, and 
set him safely on shore, if I can, in France." Upon 
which the merchant came and told me what had 
passed between them, and thereby found myself 
under a necessity of trusting him. But I took no 
kind of notice of it presently to him ; but thinking 
it convenient not to let him go home, lest he should 
be asking advice of his wife, or any body else, we 
kept him with us in the inn, and sat up all night 
drinking beer, and taking tobacco with him. 

And here I also run another very great danger, as 
being confident I was known by the master of the 
inn ; for as I was standing, after supper, by the fire- 


side, leaning my hand upon a diair, and all the rest 
of the company being gone into another room, the 
master of the inn came in, and fell a-talking with me, 
and just as he was looking about, and saw there was 
nolwdy in the room, he, upon a sudden, kissed my 
hand that was upon the back of the chair, and said 
to me, •■ God bless you wheresoever you go ! I do 
not doubt, before I die, hut to be a lord, and mj 
wife a lady," So I laughed, and went away into the 
next room, not desiring then any further discourse 
with him, there being no remedy against my being 
known by him, and more discourse might have but 
raised suspicion. On which consideration, I thought 
it best for to trust him in that manner, and he proved 
very honest. 

About four o'clock in the morning, myself and the 
company before named went towards Shoreham, tak- 
ing the master of the ship with us, on horseback, 
behind one of oiu" company, and came to the vessel's 
side, which was not above sixty ton. But it beiug 
low water, and the vessel Ij'ing dry, I and my Lord 
Wilmot got up with a ladder into her, and went and 
lay down in the little cabin, till the tide came to fetch 
OS off. 

But I was no sooner got into the ship, and lain 
down upon the bed, but the master came in to me, 
fell down upon his knees, and kist my hand, telling 
me that he knew me very well, and would venture 


life and all that he had in the world to set me down 
safe in France. 

So about seven o'clock in the morning, it being 
high water, we went out of the port ; but the master 
being bound for Pool, loaden with sea-coal, because he 
would not have it seen from Shoreham that he did 
not go his intended voyage, but stood all the day, 
with a very easy sail, towards the isle of Wight (only 
my Lord Wilmot and myself, of my company, on 
board). And as we were sailing, the master came to 
me, and desired me that I would persuade his men to 
use their endeavours with me to get him to set us on 
shore in France, the better to cover him from any 
suspicion thereof. Upon which I went to the men, 
which were four and a boy, and told them, truely, 
that we were two merchants that had some misfor- 
tunes, and were a little in debt ; that we had some 
money owing us at Rouen, in France, and were afraid 
of being arrested in England ; that if they would 
persuade the master (the wind being very fair) to 
give us a trip over to Dieppe, or one of those ports 
near Rouen, they would oblige us very much ; and 
with that I gave them twenty shillings to drink. 
Upon which they undertook to second me, if I would 
propose it to the master. So I went to the master, 
and told him our condition, and that if he would give 
us a trip over to France, we would give him some 
consideration for it. Upon which he counterfeited 



diflSculty, saying that it would hinder his voyage. 
But his men, as they had promised me, joining their 
persuasions to ours, and at last he yielded to set us 

So about five o^cIock in the afternoon, as we were 
in sight of the isle of Wight, we stood directly over 
to the coast of France, the wind being then full 
north ; and the next morning, a little before day, we 
saw the coast. But the tide failing us, and the wind 
coming about to the south-west, we were forced to 
come to an anchor, within two miles of the shore, 
till the tide of flood was done. 

We found ourselves just before an harbour in 
France called Fescamp ; and just as the tide of ebb 
was made, espied a vessel to leeward of us, which, 
by her nimble working, I suspected to be an Ostend 
privateer. Upon which I went to my Lord Wilmot, 
and telling him my opinion of that ship, proposed 
to him our going ashore in the little cock-boat, for 
fear they should prove so, as not knowing but, find- 
ing us going into a port of France (there being then 
a war betwixt France and Spain), they might plunder 
us, and possibly carry us away and set us ashore in 
England ; the master also himself had the same 
opinion of her being an Ostender, and came to me to 
tell me so, which thought I made it my business to 
dissuade him from, for fear it should tempt him to 
set sail again with us for the coast of England ; yet 


SO sensible I was of it, that I and my Lord Wilmot 
went both on shore in the cock-boat, and going up 
into the town of Fescamp, staid there all day to 
provide horses for Rouen. But the vessel which had 
so ajQFrighted us proved afterwards only a French 

The next day we got to Rouen, to an inn, one of 
the best in the town, in the Fish-market, where they 
made difl&culty to receive us, taking us, by our clothes, 
to be some thieves, or persons that had been doing 
some very ill thing, until Mr Sandbume, a merchant, 
for whom I sent, came and answered for us. 

One particular more there is observable in relation 
to this our passage into France, that the vessel that 
brought us over had no sooner landed me, and I 
given her master a pass, for fear of meeting with 
any of our Jersey frigates, but the wind turned so 
happily for her, as to carry her directly for Pool with- 
out its being known that she had ever been upon the 
coast of France. 

We staid at Rouen one day, to provide ourselves 
better clothes, and give notice to the queen, my 
mother (who was then at Paris), of my being safely 
landed. After which, setting out in a hired coach, 
I was met by my mother, with coaches, short of 
Paris ; and by her conducted thither, where I safely 














Thomas Blount, author of " Boscobel/' was the eldest 
son of Miles Blount of Orleton, county of Hereford : 
descended of the ancient family of that name, seated 
in Worcestershire ; Chalmers says, at Bordsley in 
that county, 1618. His father enjoyed there a good 
estate, to which he succeeded, as well as to consi- 
derable property both in Essex and Warwickshire, 
the former of which appears to have been derived 
from his mother, as a manor-farm near Maiden is 
described in his will as being her jointure-land. He 
was a member of the Inner Temple ; but Anthony 
Wood, who knew him, says he never pleaded, pro- 
bably from the circumstance of his being a Roman 
Catholic. Watts gives a long list of his writings, 
the best known of which are the little tract which fol- 
lows, and a treatise on " Antient Tenures and Jocular 
Customs,'' London, 4to. 1679; reprinted by Beck with, 
8vo. 1784, and again by a descendant of that edi- 
tor, 4to. 1815. Mr Blount seems to have led a quiet 
retired life at Orleton, till the breaking out of the 
Popish Plot in 1678, in which he was either impli- 


cated or suspected of being so, as "Wood attributes a 
stroke of the palsy, with which he was afflicted in the 
following year, to the fatigue^of mind and body occa- 
sioned by his being harassed about from place to 
place in consequence of it. He appears, however, to 
have made his peace, or proved his innocence, as he 
expired quietly at Orleton, December 26th, 1679, and 
was buried in the chancel of the church belonging 
to that parish, where a handsome monument was 
erected to his memory. — See Chalmers, Watts, 
Wood's Athens, vol. ii., and Warton's Pope, p. 207. 

[ E. H. B. ] 




Among the many addresses which every 
day offers your sacred majesty, this humbly hopes 
your particular gracious acceptance,, since it has no 
other ambition than faithfully to represent to your 
majesty, and, by your royal permission, to all the 
world, the history of those miraculous providences 
that preserved you in the battle of Worcester, con- 
ceal'd you in the wilderness at Boscobel, and led you, 
on your way towards a land where you might safely 
expect the returning favours of Heaven, which now, 
after so long a trial, has graciously heard our prayers, 
and abundantly crown'd your patience. 

And, as in the conduct of a great part of this 
greatest affair, it pleased God (the more to endear 
his mercies) to make choice of many very little, 
though fit, instruments : so has my weakness, by 
this happy precedent, been encouraged to hope, it not 
unsuitable for me to relate, what the wisest king 
thought proper for them to act ; wherein yet I hum- 
bly beg your majest/s pardon, being conscious to 


myself of my utter incapacity to express, either your 
unparallerd valour in the day of contending, or 
(which is a virtue far less usual for kings) your strong 
and even mind in the time of your sufferings. 

From which sublime endowments of your most 
heroick majesty, I derive these comforts to myself, 
that whoever undertakes to reach at yoiu* perfections, 
must fall short as well as I, though not so much : 
And while I depend on your royal clemency more 
than others, I am more oblig'd to be 

Your majesty's most loyal 8ubject| 

And most humble servant, 



Behold, I present you with an history of wonders ; 
wonders so great, that, as no former age can parallel, 
succeeding times will scarce believe them. 

Expect here to read the highest tyranny and re- 
bellion that was ever acted by subjects, and the 
greatest hardships and persecutions that ever were 
suflFered by a king ; yet did his patience exceed his 
sorrows, and his virtue became at last victorious. 

Some particulars, I confess, are so superlatively ex- 
traordinary, that I easily should fear they would 
scarce gain belief, even from my modem reader, had 
I not this stronor ar^rument to secure me, that no in- 
genuous person will think me so frontless, as know- 
ingly to write an untnith in an history where his 
sacred majesty (my dread Sovereign, and the best 
of kings) bears the principal part, and most of the 
other persons concerned in the same action (except 
the Earl of Derby, Lord Wilmot, and Colonel Blague) 
still alive, ready to pour out shame and confusion on 
so impudent a forgery. 

But I am so far from that foul crime of publish- 


ing what's false, that I can safely say I know not one 
line unauthentick ; such has been my care to be sure 
of the tnith, that I have diligently collected the par- 
ticulars from most of their mouths, who were the 
very actors themselves in this scene of miracles. 

To every individual person (as far as my industry 
could arrive to know) I have given the due of his 
merit, be it for valour, fidelity, or whatever other 
quality that any way had the honour to relate to his 
majesty's service. 

In this later edition, I have added some particu- 
lars which came to my knowledge since the first 
publication ; and have observed that, in this persecu- 
tion, much of his majesty's actions and sufferings 
have run parallel with those of King David, 

And though the whole complex may want elegance^ 
and politness of style (which the nature of such re- 
lations does not properly challenge), yet it cannot 
want truth, the chief ingredient for such undertak- 
ings ; iu which assurance I am not afraid to venture 
myself in your hands. 

Read on, and wo7ider ! 






It was in June, in the year 1650, that Charles the 
Second, undoubted heir of Charles the First, of 
glorious memory, King of Great Britain, France, and 
Ireland (after his royal father had been barbarously 
murdered, and himself banished his own dominions, 
by his own rebellious subjects), took shipping at 
Scheveling, in Holland, and having escaped great 
dangers at sea, arrived soon after at Spey, in the 
north of Scotland. 

On the first of January following, his majesty was 
crowned at Scoon, and an army raised in that king- 
dom to invade this, in hope to recover his regalities 
here, then most unjustly detained from him by some 
members of the Long Parliament, and Oliver Crom- 
well their general, who soon after most traiterously 
assumed the title of Protector of the new-minted 
commonwealth of England, Scotland, and Ireland. 


Of this royal Scotch army the general officers were 
these, Lieutenant-General David Lesley, Lieutenant- 
General Middleton (who was since created Earl of 
Middleton, Lord Clarmont and Fettercaim), Major- 
General Massey, Major-General Montgomery, Major- 
General Daliel, and Major-General Vandrose,a Dutch- 

The first of August, 1651, his majesty with his 
army began his march into England ; and on the 
fifth of the same month, at his royal camp at Wood- 
house, near the border, published his gracious declara- 
tion of general pardon and oblivion to all his loving 
subjects of the kingdom of England and dominion 
of Wales, that would desist from assisting the 
usurped authority of the pretended commonwealth 
of England, and return to the obedience they owed 
to their lawful king, and to the ancient happy govern- 
ment of the kingdom, except only Oliver Cromwell, 
Henry. Ireton, John Bradshaw, John Cook (pretend- 
ed solicitor), and all others who did actually sit and 
vote in the murder of his royal father. 

And lastly did declare, that the service being 
done, the Scotch army should quietly retire, that 
so all armies miglit be disbanded, and a lasting 
peace settled with religion and righteousness. 

His majesty, after the publication of this gracious 
offer, marched his army into Lancashire, where he 
received some considerable supplies from the Earl of 

Derby (that loyal subject), and at Warrington 
Bridge met with the first opposition made by the 
rebels in England, but hia presence soon put tliem 
to flight. 

In this interim Lis majesty had sent a copy of his 
declaration, inclosed in a gracious letter to Thomas 
Audi'ews, then lord mayor (who Lad been one of hia 
late majesty's judges), and the aldermen of the city 
of London, which, by order of the rump-rebels then 
sitting at Westminster, was (on the 26th of August) 
publiekly burnt at the old Exchange by tlie hang- 
man, and their own declaration proclaimed there and 
at Westminster, with beat of drum and sound of 
trumpet ; by which his sacred majesty (to whom 
they could afford no letter title than Charles Stuart), 
his abettei-s, agents, and complices, were declared 
traitors, rebels, and publick enenaies. Impudence 
and treason beyond example ! 

After a tedious march of near three hundred miles, 
his majesty, with hia army, on the 22d of August, 
jKissessed himself of AVorcester, after some small 
oppoaitiou made by the rebels there, commanded by 
Colonel John James. And at his entrance, the 
mayor of that city carried the sword before Lis 
majesty, who had left the Earl of Derby in Lanca- 
shire, as well to settle that and the adjacent coun- 
tries in a posture of defence against Cromwell and 
hia confederates, as to raise some auxiliary forces to 


recruit his majesty's army, in case the success of a 
battle should not prove so happy as all good men 

But (such was Heaven's decree) on the 25th of 
August, the earls new rais'd forces, being over- 
powered, were totally defeated, near Wiggan, in that 
county, by Colonel Lilburn, with a regiment of re- 
bellious sectaries. In which conflict the Lord Wid- 
drington, Sir Thomas Tildesly, Colonel Trollop, 
Colonel Bointon, Lieutenant-Colonel Galliard (faith- 
ful subjects and valiant soldiers), with some others 
of good note, were slain ; Colonel Edward Roscar- 
rock wounded ; Sir William Throkmorton (since 
knight marshal to his majesty), Sir Timothy Fether- 
stonhaugh (who was beheaded by the rebels at 
Chester, on the 22d of October following). Colonel 
Baines, and others, taken prisoners ; and their general, 
the Earl of Derby (wlio charged the rebels valiantly, 
and received several wounds), put to flight with a 
small number of men : in which condition he made 
choice of the way towards Worcester, whither he 
knew his majesty's army was designed to march. 

After some days, my lord, with Colonel Roscarrock 
and two servants, got into the confines of Stafford- 
shire and Shropshire, near Newport, where at one 
Mr Watson's house he met with Mr Richard Snead 
(an honest gentleman of that county, and of his lord- 
ship's acquaintance), to whom he recounted the mis- 

fortune of his defeat at Wiggaii, and the necessity of 
taking some rest, if Mr Snead could recommend his 
lordship to any private house near hand, where he 
might safely continue till he could find an opportunity 
to go to his majesty. 

Mr Snead brought my lord and his company to 
Boscohel House, a very obacure habitation, situate 
in Shropshire, but adjoining upon Staffordshire, and 
lies between Tong Castle and Brewood, in a kind 
of wilderness. John GifFard, Esq., who fij'st built 
this house, invited Sir Basil Brook, with other friends 
and neighbours, to a housewarniiug feast ; at which 
time Sir Basil was desired by Mr Giifard to give the 
house a name, he aptly calls it Boscobel (from the 
Italian Bosco-hdlo, which in that language signifies 
fair wood), because seated in the midst of many fair 

At this place the earl arrived on the 29th of August 
(being Friday), at night ; but the house at that time 
afforded no inhabitant except William Pendcrel the 
housekeeper, and his wife, who, to presen'e so eminent 
a person, freely adventured to receive my lord, and 
kept him in safety tdl Sunday night following, when 
(according to my lord's desire of going to Worcester) 
he conveyed him to Mr Humphrey Elliot's house, at 
Gataker Park (a true-hearted royalist), which was 
about nine miles on the way from Boscoliel thither. 
Mr Elliot did not only cheei-fully entertain the earl, 


but lent him ten pounds, and conducted him and his 
company safe to Worcester. 

The next day after his majest/s arrival at Wor- 
cester, being Saturday the 23d of August, he was 
proclaimed King of Great Britain, France, and Ire- 
land, by Mr Thomas Lisens, mayor, and Mr James 
Bridges, sheriff, of that loyal city, with great 

On the same day his majesty published this follow- 
ing manifesto, or declaration : — 

" Charles, by the grace of God, King of England, 
Scotland, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, 
&c. To all whom it may concern, greeting. We 
desire not the effusion of blood, we covet not the 
spoil or forfeiture of our people ; our declaration at 
our entry into this kingdom, the quiet behaviour 
and abstinence of our army throughout this long 
march, and our own general pardon declared to all 
the inhabitants of this city, without taking advan- 
tage of the opposition here made us, by a force of 
the enemy over-mastering them, until we have chased 
them away, have sufficiently certified both what we 
seek is only that the laws of England (which secure 
the right both of king and subject) may henceforth 
recover their due power and force, and all past bit- 
terness of these unnatural wars be buried and for- 
gotten. As a means whereunto, we have by our 
warrants of the date hereof, and do hereby summon, 


upon their allegiance, all the nobility, gentry, and 
others of what degree and condition soever, of our 
county of Worcester, from sixteen to sixty, to ap- 
pear in their persons, and with any horses, arms, 
and ammunition they have or can procure, at Pitch- 
eroft, near the city, on Tuesday next, being the 2Gth 
of this instant month, where our self will be present 
that day (and also the next, in case those of the 
further parts of the county shou'd not be able to 
come up sooner), to dispose of such of them as we 
shall think fit, for our service in the war, in defence 
of this city and county, and to add unto our march- 
ing army, and to apply others (therein versed) to 
matters of civil advice and government. Upon 
which appearance, we shall immediately declare to 
all present, and conforming themselves to our royal 
authority, our free pardon ; not excluding from this 
summons, or the pardon held forth, or from trust 
and employment in our service, as we shall find 
them cordial and useful therein, any peraon or 
persons heretofore, or at this time actually em- 
ployed in opposition to us, whether in the military 
way, as governours, colonels, captains, common 
soldiers, or whatsoever else ; or in the civil, as 
sheriffs, under-sheriffs, justices of the peace, collec- 
tors, high constables, or any other higher or lower 
quality ; for securing of all whom before mentioned 
in their loyal addresses and performances (besides 


our anny [more than once successful since our en- 
trance] which will be between them and the enemy, 
and the engagement of our own person in their de- 
fence), we have directed this city to be forthwith 
fortified, and shall use such other helps and means 
as shall occur to us in order to that end. But, on 
the other side, if any person, of what degree or 
quality soever, either through disloyalty and dis- 
affection, or out of fear of the cruel usurpers and 
oppressors, accompanied with a presumption upon 
our mercy and goodness, or lastly, presuming upon 
any former service, shall oppose or neglect us at this 
time, they shaU find, that as we have authority to 
punish in life, liberty, and estate, so we want not 
now the power to do it, and (if overmuch provoked) 
shall not want the will neither ; and in particular, 
unto those who have heretofore done and suffered 
for their loyalty, we say it is now in their hands 
either to double that score, or to strike it off ; con- 
cluding with this, that although our disposition 
abound with tenderness to our people, yet we can- 
not think it such to let them lie under a confest 
slavery and false peace, when, as we well know, 
and all the world may see, we have force enough, 
with the conjunction of those that groan under the 
present yoak (we will not say to dispute, for that 
we shall do well enough with those we have brought 
with us), but clearly (without any considerable op- 


position) to restore, together with our self, the 
quiet, the liberty, and the laws of the English 

Giyen at our city of Worcester, the 23d of Aug. 1651, 
and in the third year of our reign. 

Upon Sunday the 24 th of August, Mr Crosby 
(an eminent divine of that city) preach'd before 
his majesty in the cathedral church, and in his 
prayer stiled his majesty, "in all causes, and over 
all persons, next under God, supreme head and 
governour ; '^ at which the presbyterian Scots took 
exception, and Mr Crosby was afterwards ad- 
monished by some of them to forbear such expres- 

Tuesday the 26th of August was the rendevouz, 
in Pitchcroft, of such loyal subjects as came into 
his majesty's aid, in pursuance of his before-men- 
tioned declaration and summons. Here appeared, — 

Francis Lord Talbot, afterwards Earl of Shrewsbury, with 

about 60 horse. 
Mr Mervin Touchet, his lieut.-coUonel. 
Sir John Packington. 
Sir Walter Blount. 
Sir Ralph Clare. 
Sir Rowland Berkley. 
Sir John VVinford. 
Mr Ralph Sheldon of Beoly. 
Mr John Washburn of Witchinford, with 40 horse. 
Mr Thos. Homyold of Blackmore Park, with 40 horse. 


Mr William Seldon of Finstall. 

Mr Thomas Acton. 

Captain Benbow. 

Mr Robert Blount of Keuswick.* 

Mr Robert Wigmore of Lucton. 

Mr Edward Pennel the elder. 

Captain Kingston. 

Mr Peter Blount.t 

Mr Edward Blount. 

Mr Walter WalsL 

Mr Charles Walsh. 

Mr William Dansey. 

Mr Francis Knotsford. 

Mr George Chambers^ &c. 

With divers others, who were honoured and en- 
couraged by his majesty's presence. Notwithstand- 
ing which access, the number of his army, both 
English and Scots, was conceived not to exceed 
12,000 men — viz. 10,000 Scots, and about 2000 
English ; and those, too, not excellently armed, nor 
plentifully stored with ammunition. 

Meantime Cromwell (that grand patron of sec- 

* Robert Blount of Keswick was eldest son and heir of Giles 
Blount of Keswick, by his wife Frances, daughter of Edmond 
Pigot, of ... , county Bucks. He was born 1619, married Anne, 
daughter of . . . Cocks of Crowle ; living S.P. 1682; will 
proved 1683. — See Visitation of Worcestershire, 1682 (K. 4, p. 

t Peter Blount, fifth son of Edward, the 7th son of Walter 
Blount of Sodiugton, county Worcester, by his wife Elizabeth, 
daughter of George Wyld, Serjeant-at-Law. — Visitation of Wor- 
cestershire, 1634 (C. 30, p. 38) in Coll. Arm. 


taries) had amass'd togetber a numerous body of 
rebels, commauded by himself in chief, and by the 
Lord Grey of Groby, Fleetwood, and Lambert, under 
liim, consisting of above 30,000 men (being gene- 
rally the scum and froth of the whole kingdom), 
one part of which were sectaries, who, through a 
fanatifk zeal, were become devotes to this great idol ; 
the other part seduc'd persona, who either by force 
or fear were unfortunately made actors or partici- 
pants in this so horrible aud fatal a tragedy. 

Thus, then, began the pickeerings to the grand 
engagement, Major-Gen eral Massey, with a com- 
mauded party, being sent by hia majesty to secure 
the bridge and pass at Upton, upon Severn, seven 
milea below Worcester. On Thursday the 2Sth of 
August, Lambert with a far gi-eater number of 
rebels attacked him, and after some dispute gained 
the pass, the river being then fordable. Yet the 
major-general behav'd himself very gallantly, re- 
ceived a shot in the hand from some musketiers the 
enemy had conveyed into the church, and retreated 
in good order to Worcester. 

During this encounter, Cromwell himself (whose 
head-quarter was the night before at Pershore) ad- 
vanced to Stoughton, -within four miles of the city, 
on the south side, himself quartered that night at 
Mr Simon's house, at White Lady-Aston ; and a 
party of Lis horse faced the city that evening. 


The next day (August the 29th) Sultan Oliver 
appeared with a great body of horse and foot on 
Ked Hill, within a mile of Worcester, where he 
made a bonnemine, but attempted nothing ; and 
that night part of his army quartered at Judge 
Barkley's house at Speachley. The same day it was 
resolved by his majesty, at a council of war, to 
give the grand rebel a camisado, by beating up 
his quarters that night with 1500 select horse 
and foot, commanded by Lieut.-General Middleton 
and Sir William Keyth, all of them wearing their 
shirts over their armour for distinction ; which ac- 
cordingly was attempted and might in all proba- 
bility have been successful, had not the design been 
most traiterously discovered to the rebels by one 
Guyse, a tailor in the town, and a notorious sectary, 
who was hanged the day following, as the just re- 
ward of his treachery. In this action Major Knox 
was slain, and some few taken prisoners by the 
enemy. A considerable party of the rebels, com- 
manded by CoUonel Fleetwood, CoUonel Richard 
Ingoldsby (who since became a real convert, and 
was created Knight of the Bath at his majesty's 
coronation), CoUonel Goflf, and CoUonel Gibbons, 
being got over the Severn, at Upton, marched next 
day to Powick-town, when they made an halt ; for 
Powick-bridge (lying upon the river Team, between 
Powick town and Worcester) was guarded by a 

brigade of his majesty's horse and foot, commanded 
by Major-General Robert Montgomery and CoUonel 
George Keyth. 

The fatal 3d of September being come, his ma- 
jesty this day (holding a council of war upon the 
top of the colledge church steeple, the better to dis- 
cover the enemies' posture) observed some firing at 
Powick, and Cromwell making a bridge of boats 
over Severn, under Bunshill, about a mile below the 
city towards Team mouth ; his majesty presently 
goes down, commands all to their arms, and marches 
in person to Powick-bridge, to give orders, as well 
for maiutaiuing that bridge, as for opposing the 
making the other of boats, and hastened back to his 
army in the city. 

Soon after his majesty was gone from Powick- 
bridge, the enemy assaulted it furiously, which was 
well defended by Montgomery, till himself was 
dangerously wounded and his ammunition spent, 
so that he was forced to make a disorderly retreat 
into Worcester, leaving Collonel Keyth a prisoner 
at the bridge. At the same time Cromwell had 
with much celerity finish 'd his bridge of boats and 
planks over the main river, without any considerable 
opposition, saving that Colonel Pitscotty, with about 
three hundred Highlanders, performed as much there- 
in as could be expected from a handful of men fight- 
ing against great numbers. By this means Oliver 


held communication with those of his party at 
Powick-bridge, and when he had marched over a 
considerable number of his men, said (in his hypo- 
critical way), " The Lord of Hosts be with you ; '' 
and returned himself to raise a battery of great guns 
against the fort royal on the south side of the city. 

His majesty being returned from Powick-bridge, 
march'd with the Duke of Buckingham, Lord Grandi- 
son, and some of his cavalry, through the city, and 
out at Sudbury-gate by the fort royal, where the 
rebels' great shot came frequently near his sacred 

At this time Cromwell was settled in an advan- 
tageous post at Perrywood, within a mile of the 
city, swelling with pride, and confident in the num- 
bers of his men, having besides rais'd a breastwork, 
at the cockshoot of that wood, for his greater se- 
curity ; but Duke Hamilton (formerly Lord Lane- 
rick), with his own troop and some Highlanders, Sir 
Alexander Forbes, with his regiment of foot, and 
divers English lords and gentlemen voluntiers, by 
his majesty's command and encouragement, engaged 
him, and did great execution upon his best men, 
forced the great sultan (as the Rhodians in like case 
did the Turk) to retreat with his janizaries ; and 
his majesty was once as absolute master of his great 
guns as he ought then to have been of the whole land. 

Here his majesty gave an incomparable example 

of valour to the rest, by charging in person, which 
the Highlanders, especially, imitated in a great 
measure, fighting with the hut-end of their muskets 
when then: ammunition was spent ; but new sup- 
plies of rebels being continually poured upon them, 
and the main body of Scotch horse not coming up 
in due time from the town to his majesty's reliei^ 
his army was forced to retreat in at Sudbury-gate 
in much disorder. 

In this action Duke Hamilton (who fought 
valiantly) Imd hia horse killed under him, and was 
himself mortally wounded, of which he died within 
few days, and many of hia troop (consisting much 
of gentlemen, and diverse of his own name) were 
slain ; Sir John Douglas received hia death's wound ; 
and Sir Alex. Forbes (who "was the first knight the 
king made in Scotland, and commanded the fort 
royal liere) was shot through both the calves of his 
legs, lay la the wood all night, and was brought 
prisoner to Worcester next day. 

The rebels in this encounter had great advantage, 
as well in their numbers, as by fighting both with 
horse and foot against his majesty's foot only, the 
greatest part of his horse being wedged up in the 
town. And when the foot were defeated, a part of 
hia majesty's horse fought afterwards against both 
the enemy's horse and foot upon great disadvantage. 
And as they had few persona of condition among 


them to lose, so no rebels, but Quartermaster- 
general Mosely and one Captain Jones, were worth 
taking notice of to be slain in this battle. 

At Sudbury-gate (I know not whether by acci- 
dent or on purpose) a cart laden with ammunition 
was overthrown and lay across the passage, one of 
the oxen that drew it being there killed ; so that 
his majesty could not ride into the town, but was 
forced to dismount and come in on foot. 

The rebels soon after stormed the fort royal (the 
fortifications whereof were not perfected), and put 
all the Scots they found therein to the sword. 

In the Friars-street his majesty put off his armour, 
(which was heavy and troublesome to him), and 
took a fresh horse ; and then perceiving many of 
his foot soldiers began to throw down their arms 
and decline fighting, he rode up and down among 
them, sometimes with his hat in his hand, entreat- 
ing them to stand to their arms and fight like men, 
other whiles encouraging them, alleging the good- 
ness and justice of the cause they fought for ; but 
seeing himself not able to prevail, said, "I had rather 
you would shoot me, than keep me alive to see the 
sad consequences of this fatal day." So deep a 
sense had liis prophetic soul of the miseries of his 
beloved country, even in the midst of his own 

During this hot engagement at Perrywood and 

Redhill, the rebels on the other side the water 
possessed themselves of St John's ; and a brigade 
of his majesty's foot which were there, under the 
command of Major-General Dabel, witliont any 
great resistance, laid down their arms and craved 

"When some of the enemy were entered, and 
enteriug the town both at the Key, Caatle-hill, 
and Sudbury-gate, without auy conditions, the 
Earl of Cleveland, Sir James Hamilton, Colonel 
Thos. Wogan, Colonel WilUara Carlis (then major 
to the Lord Talbot), Lieut.-Colonel John Slaughter, 
Captain ThoB. Hornyold, Captain Thos. Giflard, 
Captain John Astley, Mr Peter Blount, and Captain 
Richard Kemble (captain-lieutenant to the Lord 
Talbot), and some others, rallied what force they 
could (though inconsiderable to the rebels' num- 
bers), and charged the enemy very gallantly both 
in Sudbury-street and High-street, where Sir James 
and Captain Kemble were desperately wouuded, 
and others slain ; yet this action did much secure 
his majesty's march out at St Martin 's-gate, who had 
otherwise been in danger of being taken in the town. 

About the same time, the Earl of Rothes, Sir 
William Hamilton, and Colonel Drammond, with a 
party of Scots, maintained the Castle-hill with much 
resolution, till such time as conditions were agreed 
on for quarter. 


Lastly, some of his majesty's English anny 
valiantly opposed the rebels at the Town-hall, 
where Mr Coningsby CoUes and some others were 
slain ; Mr John Rumney, Mr Chas. Wells, and 
others, taken prisoners ; so that the rebels having 
in the end subdued all their opponents, fell to 
plundering the city unmercifully, few or none of 
the citizens escaping but such as were of the fanatic 

When his majesty saw no hope of rallying his 
thus discomfited foot, he marched out of Worcester, 
at St Martin's-gate (the Fore-gate being mured up), 
about six of the clock in the evening, with his main 
body of horse, as then commanded by General David 
Lesley, but were now in some confusion. 

The Lord St Clare, with diverse of the Scottish 
nobility and gentry, were taken prisoners in the 
town ; and the foot soldiers (consisting most of 
Scots) were almost all either slain or taken, and 
such of them who in the battle escaped death 
lived but longer to die, for the most part, more 
miserably, many of them being afterwards knocked 
o' the head by country people, some bought and 
sold like slaves, for a small price, others went 
begging up and down, till, charity failing them, 
their necessities brought upon them diseases, and 
diseases death. 

Before his majesty was come to Barbon's-bridge, 


about Ijalf a mile out of Worcester, he made several 
stands, faced about, and desired the Duke of Buck- 
ingham, Lord Wilmot, and other of his commanders, 
that they might rally and try the fortune of war 
once more. But at the bridge a serious consultation 
was held ; and then perceiving many of the troopers 
to throw off their arms and shift for themselves, 
they were all of opinion the day was irrecoverably 
lost, and that their only remaining work was to 
save the king from those ravenous wolves and regi- 
cides. Whereupon his majesty, by advice of his 
council, resolved to march with all speed for Scot- 
land, following therein the steps of King David, his 
great predecessor in royal patience, who, finding 
himself in circiunstances not unlike to these, " said 
to all his servants that were with him at Jerusalem, 
Arise, and let us fly ; for we shaD not else escape 
from Absalom : make speed to depart, lest he over- 
take us suddenly, and bring evil upon us, and smite 
the city with the edge of the sword."* 

Immediately after this result, the duke asked 
the Lord Talbot (being of that country) if he could 
direct the way northwards. Ills lordship answered, 
that he had one Richard Walker in his troop 
(formerly a scout-master in those parts, and who 
since died in Jamaica) that knew the way well, 

♦ 3 Sam. IV. ]\. 


who was accordingly called to be the guide, and 
perfonned that duty for some miles ; but being 
come to Kinver-heath, not far from Kederminster, 
and daylight being gone, Walker was at a puzzle in 
the way. 

Here his majesty made a stand, and consulted 
with the duke, Earl of Derby, Lord Wilmot, &c. 
to what place he might march, at least to take some 
hours* rest. The Earl of Derby told his majesty, 
that in his flight from Wiggan to Worcester he had 
met with a perfect honest man, and a great con- 
venience of concealment at Boscobel House (before 
mentioned), but withal acquainted the king it was a 
recusant's house ; and it was suggested, that those 
people (being accustomed to persecution and searches) 
were most like to have the readiest means and safest 
contrivances to preserve him : his majesty therefore 
inclined to go thither. 

The Lord Talbot being made acquainted there- 
with, and finding Walker dubious of the way, 
called for Mr Charles Giffard (a faithful subject, 
and of the ancient family of Chillington) to be his 
majesty's conductor, which office Mr Giffard will- 
ingly undertook, having one Yates a servant with 
him, very expert in the ways of that country ; and 
being come near Sturbridge, it was under consider- 
ation whether his majesty should march through that 
town or no, and resolved in the affirmative, and 

that all about his person should speak French, to 
prevent any discovery of his majesty's presence. 

Meantime General Lesley, with the Scottish horse, 
had, in the close of the evening, taken the more 
direct way northward, by Newport, his majesty 
being left only attended by the Duke of Bucking- 
ham, Earl of Derby, Earl of Lauderdale, Lord 
Talbot, Lord Wilmot, Colonel Thomas Blague, Colonel 
Edward Roscarrock, Mr Marmaduke Darcy, Mr 
Eichard Lane, Mr William Armorer (since knight- 
ed), Mr Hugh May, Mr Charles GifFard, Mr Peter 
Street, and some others, in all about sixty horse. 

At a house about a mile beyond Sturbridge, his 
majesty drank and ate a crust of bread, the house 
affo]'ding no better provision ; and as bis majesty 
rode on, he discoursed with Colonel Roscarrock 
touching Boscobel House, and the means of secu- 
rity which the Earl of Derby and he found at that 

However, Mr Giffard humbly proposed to carry 
his majesty first to White Ladies (another seat of 
the Gifiards), lying but half a mile beyond Boscobel, 
where he might repose himself for a while, and then 
take such farther resolution as his majesty and 
council should think fit. 

This house is distant about twenty-six nules 
from Worcester, and still retains the ancient name 
of White Ladies, fi:om its having ibnuei-ly been a 


monastery of Cistertian nuns, whose habit was of 
that colour. 

His majesty and his retinue (being safely con- 
ducted thither by Mr Giffard) alighted, now, as 
they hoped, out of danger of any present surprise 
by pursuits ; George Penderel (who was a servant 
in the house) opened the doors ; and after his ma- 
jesty and the lords were entered the house, his ma- 
jesty's horse was brought into the hall, and by this 
time it was about break of day on Thursday morn- 
ing. Here every one was in a sad consult how to 
escape the fury of bloodthirsty enemies ; but the 
greatest sollicitude was to save the king, who was 
both hungry and tired with this long and hasty 

Mr Giffard presently sent for Richard Penderel, 
who lived near hand at Hobbal Grange ; and Colonel 
Roscarrock caused Bartholomew Martin, a boy in 
the house, to be sent to Boscobel for William Pen- 
derel ; meantime Mistress Giffard brought his ma- 
jesty some sack and biscuit ; for " the king, and aU 
the people that were with him, came weary, and 
refreshed themselves there.''* Richard came first, 
and was immediately sent back to bring a suit of 
his clothes for the king ; and by that time he arrived 
with them, William came, and both were brought 

* 2 Sam. xvi. U. 


into the parlour to the Earl of Derby, who imme- 
diately carried them into an inner parlour (where 
the king was), and told William Penderel, " This is 
the king," pointing to his majesty ; " thou must 
have a care of him, and preserve him aa thou didst 
me." And Mr Giffard did also much conjure 
Kichard to have a special care of his charge ; to 
which commands the two brothers yielded ready 

Whilst Eichard and William were thus Hent for, 
hia majesty had been advised to rub his hands on 
the back of the chimney, and with them hia face, 
for a disguise, and some person bad disorderly cut 
off hia hail'. Hia majesty having put off hia garter, 
blue riband, George of diamonds, huff-coat, and 
other princely ornaments, committed his watch to 
the custody of the Lord AVUmot, and his George to 
Colonel Blague, and distributed the gold he had in his 
pocket among his servants, and then put on a nog- 
gea coarse ahiit, which was borrowed of Edward 
Martin, who lived in the house, and Richard Pen- 
derel's green suit and leather doublet, l:iut had not 
time to be bo disguised as he was afterwards, for 
both William and Richard Penderel did adveitise 
the company to make haste away, in regard there 
was a troop of rebels commanded by Colonel Ashen- 
hurst, quartered at Cotsal, but three miles distant, 
Bome of which troop came to the bouse within half 


an hour after the dissolution of the royal troop. 
" Thus David and his men departed out of Keilah, 
and went whithersoever they could go." * 

Eichard Penderel conducted the king out at a back 
door, unknown to most of the company (except some 
of the lords, and Colonel Roscarrock, who, with sad 
hearts, but hearty prayers, took leave of him), and 
carried him into an adjacent wood belonging to 
Boscobel, called Spring Coppice, about half a mile 
from White Ladies (where he abode, as David did 
in the wilderness of Ziph, " in a wood,'' t) whilst 
WiUiam, Ilimiphrey, and George, were scouting 
abroad to bring what news they could learn to his 
majesty in the coppice, as occasion required. 

His majesty being thus, as they hoped, in a way 
of security, the duke, Earl of Derby, Earl of Lauder- 
dale, Lord Talbot, and the rest (having Mr Giffard 
for their guide, and being then not above forty horse, 
of which number his majesty's pad-nag was one, 
ridden by Mr Richard Lane, one of the grooms of 
the bed-chamber), marched from White Ladies north- 
wards by the way of Newport, in hope to overtake 
or meet General Lesley with the main body of Scotch 

As soon as they were got into the road, the Lord 
Leviston (who commanded his majesty's life guard) 

♦ 1 Sam. xxiii. 13. t 1 Sam. xxiii. 15. 


overtook them, pursued by a party of rebels under 
the command of Colonel Blundel : the lords with 
their followers faced about, fought, and repelled them ; 
but when they came a little beyond Newport, some 
of Colonel Lilbum's men met them in the front, other 
rebels, from Worcester, pursued in the rear ; them- 
selves and horses being sufficiently tired, the Ear! of 
Derby, Earl of Lauderdale, Mr Charles Giffard, and 
some others, were taken and carried prisoners, first 
to Whitchurch, and from thence to an inn in Bnn- 
bury, in Cheshire, where Mr Giffard found means to 
make an escape ; but the nol'le Earl of Derby was 
thence conveyed to Westchester, and tliere tried by 
a pretended court-martial, held the 1st of October 
1651, by virtue of a commission from Cromwell, 
grounded on an execrable rump-act, of the 12th of 
August, then last past, the very title whereof can- 
not be mentioned without horror ; but it pretended 
most traiteroualy to prohibit correspondence with 
Charles Stuart (their lawful sovereign), under 

penalty of high tre^on, loss of life and estate, 

Pimligious rebels ! 

In this Blnfk Tribunal tfiere tatf, oa Jiul-jcii, Okx Ferioiu, 
iiiul, under tliere 'itlr» : 

CoIoDcl Humphrey Maokworth, president. 
Major-General Mitt on. 
Colonel Eobcrt DiickcTifield. 
Colonel Henry Brndshaw. 


Colonel Thomas Croxton. 
Colonel George Twisleton. 
Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Birkenhead. 
Lieutenant-Colonel Simon Finch. 
Lieutenant-Colonel Alexander Newton. 
Captain James Stepford. 
Captain Samuel Smith. 
Captain John Downes. 
Captain Vincent Corbet. 
Captain John Delves. 
Captain John Griffith. 
Captain Thomas Portington. 
Captain Edward Alcock. 
Captain Ralph Pownall. 
Captain Richard Grantham. 
Captain Edward Stel&JL. 


" Resolved by the Court upon the question : That 
James, Earl of Derby, is guilty of the breach of the 
Act of the 12th of August 1651, last past, entituled, 
'An Act prohibiting Correspondence with Charles 
Stuart or his Party,' and so of high treason against 
the commonwealth of England, and is therefore 
worthy of death. 

" Resolved by tJie Court : That the said James, 
Earl of Derby, is a traitor to the commonwealth of 
England, and an abetter, encourager, and assister of 
the declared traitors and enemies thereof, and shall 
be put to death by severing his head from his body, at 
the market-place in the town of Bolton, in Lancashire, 

upon Wednesday the 15th day of this instant Octo- 
ber, about the hum- of one of the clock the same day." 

This was the authority, and some of these the 
persons, that so barbarously, and contraiy to the law 
of nations, condemned this noble earl to death, not- 
withstanding his j ust plea, " That he had quarter for 
life given him by one Captain Edge, who took him 
prisoner." But this could not obtain justice, nor any 
intercession, mercy ; so that on the, 1 5th of the said 
October he was accordingly beheaded at Bolton in a 
moat barbarous and inhumane manner.* 

The Earl of Lauderdale, with several others, were 
carried prisoners to the Tower, and afterwards to 
Windsor Castle, where they continued divers years. 

Whilst the rebels were plundering those uoi^le 
persons, the duke, with the Lord Leviston, Colonel 
Blague, Mr Marmaduke Darcy, and Mr Hugh May, 
forsook the road first, and soon after their liorses, and 
lietook themselves to a by-way, and got into Bloore 
Park, near Cheswardine, about five miles from New- 
port, where they received some refreshment at a little 
obscure house of Mr George Barlow's, and afterwards 
met with two honest labourers, in an adjoining wood, 
to whom they communicated the exigent and distress 

• See tLo proceedings against him at largo, with his prayers 
before hie death, and his speech and coumgeous deportmeut on 
tbeseeffold, in England s B(ack Triinmal, fifth edit. p. Io6, 4o. 


which the fortune of war had reduced them to ; and 
finding them like to prove faithful, the duke thought 
fit to imitate his royal master, delivered his George 
(which was given him by the Queen of England) to 
Mr May (who preserved it through all difficulties, 
and afterwards restored it to his grace in Holland), 
and changed habit with one of the workmen ; and 
in this disguise, by the assistance of Mr Barlow and 
his wife, was, after some days, conveyed by one 
Nicholas Matthews, a carpenter, to the house of Mr 
Hawley, an hearty cavalier, at Bilstrop, in Notting- 
hamshire, from thence to the Lady Villiars' house at 
Booksby, in Leicestershire ; and after many hardships 
and encounters, his grace got secure to London, and 
from thence to his majesty in France. 

At the same time the Lord Leviston, Colonel 
Blague, Mr Darcy, and Mr May, all quitted their 
horses, disguised themselves, and severally shifted 
for themselves, and some of them, through vari- 
ous dangers and sufferings, contrived their es- 
capes ; in particular, Mr May was forced to lie 
twenty-one days in a hay mow belonging to one 
John Bold an honest husbandman, who lived at 
Soudley : Bold having all that time rebel soldiers 
quartered in his house, yet failed not to give a 
constant relief to his more welcome guest ; and when 
the coast was clear of soldiers, Mr May came to 
London on foot in his disguise. 

The Lord Talbot (seeing no hope of rallyiug) 
bo^^ted towards bis lather's house at LoDgford, near 
Newport ; where being arrived, he coiiveyed his 
horse into a neighbouring barn, but was immediately 
pursued by the rebels, who found the horse saddled, 
and by that concluded my lord not to be far off, so 
that they searched Longford House narrowly, and 
some of them continued in it four or five days, dur- 
ing all which time my lord was in a close place in 
one of tlie out-houses, almost stifled for want of air, 
and had perished for want of food, had he not been 
once relieved in the dead of the night, and with 
much difficulty, by a trusty sei-vant ; yet his lord- 
ship thought it a great providence, even by these 
hardships, to escape the fury of such enemies, who 
sought the destruction of the nobility, as well as of 
their king. 

In this interim the valiant Earl of Cleveland (who, 
being above sixty years of age, had marched twenty- 
one days together upon a trotting horse) had also 
made his escape from Worcester, when all the fighting 
work was over, and was got to Woodcot, in Shrop- 
shire, whither he was pursued, and taken at or near 
Mistress Broughton's house, from whence he was 
carried prisoner to Staflbrd, and from thence to the 
Tower of London. 

Colonel Blague, remaining at Mr Barlow's house at 
Bloor-pipe, about eight miles from Stafford, his first 


action was, with Mistress Barlow's privity and advice, 
to hide his majesty's George under a heap of chips 
and dust ; yet the colonel could not conceal himself 
so weU, but that he was here, soon after, taken and 
carried prisoner to Stafford, and from thence conveyed 
to the Tower of London. Meantime the George was 
transmitted to Mr Robert Milward, of Stafford, for 
better security, who afterwards faithfully conveyed 
it to Colonel Blague in the Tower, by the trusty 
hands of Mr Isaac Walton ; and the Colonel not long 
after happily escaping thence, restored it to his 
majesty's own hands, which had been thus wonder- 
fully preserved from being made a prize to sordid 

The Scotch cavalry (having no place to retreat imto 
nearer than Scotland) were soon after dispersed, and 
most of them taken by the rebels and country people 
in Cheshire, Lancashire, and parts adjacent. 

Thus was this royal army totally subdued, thus 
dispersed ; and if in this so important an affair, any 
of the Scottish commanders were treacherous at Wor- 
cester (as some suspected), he has a great account 
to make for the many years' miseries that ensued 
thereby to both nations, under the tyrannical, usurped 
government of Cromwell. 

But to return to the duty of my attendance on his 
sacred majesty in Spring Coppice. By that time Rich- 
ard Penderel had conveyed him into the obscurest 


part of it, it was about sun-rising on Thursday 
morning, and the heavens wept bitteriy at these 
calamities, insomuch as the thickest tree in the 
wood was not able to keep his majesty dry, nor was 
there anything for him to sit on ; wherefore Richard 
went to Francis Yates' house (a trusty neighbour, 
who married his wife's sister), where he borrowed a 
blanket, which he folded and laid on the ground 
under a tree for his majesty to sit on. 

At the same time Eichard spoke to the good-wife 
Yates to provide some victuals, and bring it into the 
wood at a place he appointed her. She presently 
made ready a mess of milk, and some butter and 
eggs, and brought them to his majesty in the wood, 
who, being a httle surprised to see the woman (no 
good concealer of a secret), said cheerfully to her, 
" Good woman, can you be faithful to a distressed 
cavalier ? " She answered, " Yes, sir, I will rather 
die than discover you." With which answer his 
majesty was well satisfied, and received from her 
hands, as David did from Abigail's, " that which she 
brought him."* 

The Lord Wilmot in the interim took John Pen- 
derel for his guide, but knew not determinately 
whither to go, purposing at first to have marched 
northwards ; but as they passed by Brewood forge, 

* 1 Sam. XXV. 35. 


the forgemen made after them, till being told by one 
Kich. Button that it was Colonel Crompton whom 
they pursued, the Vulcans happily, upon that mistake, 
quitted the chase. 

Soon after they narrowly escaped a party of rebels 
as they passed by Covenbrook ; so that seeing danger 
on every side, and John meeting with William Walker 
(a trusty neighbour), committed my lord to his care 
and counsel, who for the present conveyed them into 
a dry marl pit, where they stayed a while, and after- 
wards to one Mr Huntbache's house at Brinsford, 
and put their horses into John Evans's bam, whilst 
John Penderel goes to Wolverhampton to see what 
convenience he could find for my lord's coming thi- 
ther, but met with none, the town being full of 

Yet John leaves no means unessayed, hastens to 
Northcot (an adjacent village), and there, whilst he 
was talking with good- wife Underbill (a neighbour), 
in the instant Mr John Huddleston (a sojourner at 
Mr Thomas Whitgreave's of Moseley, and of John's 
acquaintance) was accidentally passing by, to whom 
John (well assured of his integrity) presently ad- 
dresses himself and his business, relates to him the 
sad news of the defeat of his majesty's army at Wor- 
cester, and discovers in what strait and confusion he 
had left his majesty and his followers at AVhite 
Ladies, and in particular, that he had brought thence 


a person of quality (for John then knew not who my 
lord waa) to Hiintbache's house, who, without pre- 
Hent relief, would be in great danger of being taken. 

Mr Huddleston goes home forthwith, takes John 
with him, and acquaints Mr Whitgreave with the 
business, who freely resolved to venture all, rather 
than such a person should miscarry. 

Hereupon Mr Whitgreave repairs to Huntbache's 
house, speaks with my lord, and gives direction how 
he should be privately conveyed into his house at 
Moseley, about ten of the clock at night ; and though 
it so fell out that the duections were not punctually 
observed, yet my lord and his man were at last 
brought into the house, where Mr Whitgreave (after 
some refreshment given them) conveys them into a 
secret place, which my loi-d admiiing for its excellent 
contrivance, and solicitous for his majesty's safety, 
saidj " I would give a world ray friend," meaning 
the kiug, "were here;" and then (being abundantly 
satisfied of Mr Whitgreave'a fidelity) deposited in 
his hands a little bag of jewels, which my lord re- 
ceived again at his departure. 

As soon as it was day, Mr Whitgreave sent AVU- 
Uam Walker with my lord's horses to his neighbour, 
Colonel John Lane of Bentley.near Walsall, south-east 
from Moseleyabout four miles (whom Mr Whitgreave 
knew to be a right honest gentleman, and ready to 
contribute any assistance to so charitable a work). 


and wished Walker to acquaint the colonel that they 
belonged to some eminent person about the king, 
whom he could better secure than the horses. The 
colonel willingly receives them, and sends word to 
Mr Whitgreave to meet him that night in a close not 
far from Moseley, in order to the tender of farther 
service to the owner of the horses, whose name nei- 
ther the colonel nor Mr Whitgreave yet knew. 

On Thursday night when it grew dark, his ma- 
jesty resolved to go from those parts into Wales, 
and to take Eichard Penderel with him for his guide ; 
but, before they began their journey, his majesty 
went into Richard's house at Hobbal Grange, where 
the old good- wife Penderel had not only the honour 
to see his majesty, but to see him attended by her 
son Richard. Here his majesty had time and means 
better to complete his disguise. His name was 
agreed to be Will. Jones, and his arms a wood- 
bill. In this posture, about nine o'clock at night 
(after some refreshment taken in the house), his 
majesty, with his trusty servant Richard, began their 
journey on foot, resolving to go that night to Madely, 
in Shropshire, about five miles from White Ladies, and 
within a mile of the river Severn, over which their 
way lay for Wales. In this viUage lived one Mr 
Francis Woolf, an honest gentleman of Richard's 

His majesty had not been long gone, but the Lord 

Wilmot sent John Penderel from Mr Whitgreave's 
to WLite Ladies and Boscobel, to know in what 
security the king was. John returned and acquainted 
my lord that his majesty was marched from thence. 
Hereupon my lord began to consider which way 
himself should remove with safety. 

Colonel Lane, having secured my lord's hoi-ses, and 
being come to Moseley, according to appointment, 
on Friday night, was brought up to my lord by Mr 
Whitgreave,and (after mutual salutation) acquainted 
him that his sister, Mrs Jane Lane, had by accident 
procured a pass from some commander of the rebels, 
for herself and a man to go a little beyond Bristol, 
to see Mrs Norton, her special friend, then near her 
time of lying in, and freely offered, if his lordship 
thought fit, he might make use of it ; which my lord 
seemed inclinable to accept, and on Saturday night 
was conducted by Colonel Lane's man (himself not 
being well) to the colonel's house at Bentley ; liis 
lordship then, and not before, discovering his name 
to Mr Whitgreave, and giving him many thanks for 
so great a kindness in so imminent a danger. 

Before his majesty came to Madeley, he met with 
an ill-favoured encounter at Evelin Mill, being about 
two mile-s from thence. The miller (it seems) was 
an honest man, but his majesty and KicLajd knew it 
not, and had then in liis house some considerable per- 
sons of hia majesty's army, who took shelter there in 


their flight from Worcester, and had not been long 
in the mill, so that the miller was upon his watch ; 
and Eichard unhappUy permitting a gate to clap, 
through which they passed, gave occasion to the 
miller to come out of the miU and boldly ask, " Who 
is there 1 " Richard, thinking the miller had pursued 
them, quitted the usual way in some haste, and led 
his majesty over a little brook, which they were 
forced to wade through, and which contributed much 
towards the galling his majesty's feet, who (as he 
afterwards pleasantly observed) was here in some 
danger of losing his guide, but that the rustling of 
Eichard's calves-skin breeches was the best direc- 
tion his majesty had to follow him in that dark 

They arrived at Madeley about midnight ; Rich- 
ard goes to Mr Woolf s house, where they were aU 
in bed, knocks them up, and acquaints Mr Woolf s 
daughter (who came to the door) that the king was 
there, who presently received him into the house, 
where his majesty refreshed himself for some time ; 
but understanding the rebels kept several guards 
upon Severn, and it being feared that some of their 
party (of which many frequently passed through 
the town) might quarter at the house (as had often 
happened), it was apprehended imsafe for his majesty 
to lodge in the house (which afforded no secret place 
for concealment), but rather to retire into a barn 

near adjoining, as less lialile to the danger of a sur- 
prise ; whither his majesty went accordingly, and 
continued in a bay-mow there all the day following, 
his servant Richard attending him. 

During his majesty's stay in the bam, Mr "Woolf 
had often conference with him about his intended 
journey, and in order thereto took care, by a trusty 
servant (seut abroad for that purpose), to inform 
himself more particularly of those guards upon 
Severn, and had certain word brought him, that not 
only the bridges were secured, but all the passage- 
boats seized on, insomuch that he conceived it very 
hazardous for liis majesty to prosecute his design 
for Wales, but rather go to Boscobel House, being the 
moat retired place for concealment in all the country, 
and to stay there till an opportunity of a farther 
safe conveyance could be found out ; which advice 
his majesty inclined to approve, and thereupon re- 
solved for Boscobel the night followiug. In the 
mean tune, his hands not appearing sufficiently dis- 
coloured, suitable to his other disguise, Mi-s Woolf 
provided walnut-tree leaves, iis the readiest expedient 
for that purpose. 

The day being over, his majesty adventured to 
come again into the house, where having for some 
time refreshed himself, and being furnished with 
conveuieucea for his journey (which was concei^■ed 
to be safer on foot than by horse), he with his faith- 


fill guide Richard, about eleven o'clock at night, set 
forth toward Boscobel. 

About three of the clock on Saturday morning, 
being come near the house, Eichard left his majesty 
in the wood, whilst he went in to see if any soldiers 
were there, or other danger ; where he found Colonel 
William Carlis (who had seen, not the last man 
bom, but the last man killed, at Worcester, and) 
who, having with much difficulty made his escape 
fi'om thence, was got into his own neighbourhood, 
and for some time concealing himself in Boscobel 
Wood, was come that morning to the house, to get 
some relief of William Penderel, his old acquaintance. 

Richard having acquainted the colonel that the 
king was in the wood, the colonel, with William and 
Richard, went presently thither to give their atten- 
dance, where they found his majesty sitting on the 
root of a tree, who was glad to see the colonel, and 
came with them into the house, where he eat bread 
and cheese heartily, and (as an extraordinary) Wil- 
liam Penderel's wife made his majesty a posset of 
thin milk and small beer, and got ready some warm 
water to wash his feet, not only extreme dirty, but 
much galled with travel. 

The colonel pulled oflf his majesty's shoes, which 
were full of gravel, and stockings, which were very 
wet ; and there being no other shoes in the house 
that would fit him, the good-wife put some hot embers 

in those to dry them, whilst hia majesty's feet were 
wasliing and his stockings shifted. 

Being thus a little refreshed, t!ie colonel persuaded 
his majesty to go back into the wood (supposing it 
safer thau the house), where the colonel made choice 
of a thick-leaved oak, into which William and Rich- 
ard helped them both up, and brought them such 
provision as they could get, with a cushion for his 
majesty to sit on ; the colonel humbly desired his 
majesty (who had taken little or no rest the two 
preceding nights) to seat himself as easily as he 
could in the tree, and rest his head on the colonel's 
lap, who was watchful that his majesty might not 
fell. In this oak they continued most part of the 
day ; and in that posture his majesty slumbered 
away some part of the time, and bore all these hard- 
ships and atilictious with incomparable patience. 

lu the evening they returned to the house, where 
William Penderel acquainted his majesty with the 
secret place wherein the Earl of Derby had been 
secured, which his majesty liked so well, that he re- 
solved, whilst he stayed there, to trust only to that, 
and go no more into the royal oak, as from hence it 
must be called, where he could not so much as sit at 

His majesty now finding himself in a hopeful 
security, permitted William Penderel to shave him, 
and cut the hair off his head as short at top as the 


scissors would do it, but leaving some about the ears, 
according to the country mode ; Colonel Carlis at- 
tending, told his majesty, " William was but a mean 
barber ; " to which his majesty answered, " He had 
never been shaved by any barber before/' The king 
bad William bum the hair which he cut oflF ; but 
William was only disobedient in that, for he kept a 
good part of it, wherewith he has since pleasured 
some persons of honour, and is kept as a civil relic. 

Humphrey Penderel was this Saturday designed 
to go to Shefnal, to pay some taxes to one Captain 
Broadway ; at whose house he met with a colonel of 
the rebels, who was newly come fix)m Worcester in 
pursuit of the king, and who, being informed that 
his majesty had been at White Ladies, and that 
Humphrey was a near neighbour to the place, exa- 
mined him strictly, and laid before him, as well the 
penalty for concealing the king, which was death 
without mercy, as the reward for discovering him, 
which should be one thousand pounds certain pay. 
But neither fear of punishment, nor hope of reward, 
was able to tempt Humphrey into any disloyalty ; 
he pleaded ignorance, and was dismissed, and on 
Saturday night related to his majesty and the loyal 
colonel at Boscobel what had passed bet\vixt him and 
the rebel colonel at Shefnal. 

This night the good-wife (whom his majesty was 
pleased to call "my dame Joan") provided some 

chickens for Ms majesty's supper (a dainty be had 
not lately been acquainted with), and a little pallet 
was put into the secret place for his majesty to rest 
in ; some of the brothers being continually upon 
duty, watching the avenues of the house, and the 
road-way, to prevent the danger of a surprise. 

After supper, C-olonel Carlis asked his majesty 
what meat he would please to have provided for 
the morrow, being Sunday ; hia majesty desired 
some mutton, if it might be had. But it was 
thought dangerous for William to go to any market 
to buy it, since his neighbours all knew he did not 
use to buy such for his own diet, and so it might 
beget a suspicion of his having strangers at his 
house. But the colonel found another expedient 
to satisfy his majesty's desires. Early on Sunday 
morning he repairs to Mr Wm. Staunton's sheep- 
coat, who rented some of the demeans of Boscobel ; 
here he chose one of the best sheep, sticks him with 
his dagger, then sends William for the mutton, who 
brings him home on his back. 

On Sunday morning (September the 7th) his 
majesty got up early, his dormitory being none of 
the best, nor his bed the easiest), and, near the 
secret place where he lay, had the convenience of a 
galleiy to walk in, where he was observed to spend 
some time in his devotions, and where be bad the 
advantage of a window, which surveyed the road 


from Tong to Brewood. Soon after his majesty com- 
ing down into the parlour, his nose fell a-bleeding, 
which put his poor faithful servants into a great 
fright ; but his majesty was pleased soon to remove 
it, by telling them it often did so. 

As soon as the mutton was cold, William cut it up 
and brought a leg of it into the parlour ; his ma- 
jesty called for a knife and a trencher, and cut some 
of it into collops, and pricked them with the knife 
point, then called for a frying-pan and butter, and 
fried the collops himself, of which he eat heartily ; 
Colonel Carlis the while being but under cook (and 
that honour enough too), made the fire, and turned 
the collops in the pan. 

When the colonel afterwards attended his ma- 
jesty in France, his majesty calling to remembrance 
this passage among others, was pleased merrily to 
propose it, as a problematical question, whether 
himself or the colonel were the master-cook at Bos- 
cobel, and the supremacy was of right adjudged to 
his majesty. 

All this while the other brothers of the Penderels 
were, in their several stations, either scouting abroad 
to learn intelligence, or upon some other service ; but 
it so pleased God, that, though the soldiers had 
some intelligence of his majesty's having been at 
White Ladies, and none that he was gone thence, 
yet his house (which proved a happy sanctuary for 

liis majesty in this sad exigent) lia<I not at aU lieen 
seai-ched durmg his majesty's abode there, though 
that had several times ; this, perhaps, the rather 
escaping, because the neighbours could truly inform 
none but poor servants lived here. 

His majesty spent some part of this Lord's day 
in reading, in a pretty arbour in Boscobel garden, 
which grew upon a mount, and wherein there was a 
stone table, and seats about it, and commended the 
place for its retiredness. 

And having uudei'Stood by John Penderel that 
the Lord Wilmot was at Mr Whitgreave's house 
(for John knew not of his remove to Bentley), 
his majesty was desirous to let my lord hear of 
liini, and that he intended to come to Moseley that 

To this end, John was sent on Sunday morning 
to Moseley, but finding my lord removed thence, 
was much tioubled ; and then acquainting Mr 
Whitgreave and Mr Huddleaton that his majesty 
was returned to Boscobel, and the disacc^mmoda- 
tion he had there, whereupon they both resolve to 
go with John to Bentley, where having gained him 
an access to my lord, his lordship designed to at- 
tend the king that night at Moseley, and desired 
Ml" Wliitgreave to meet his lordship at a place 
appointed about twelve of the clock, and Mr 
Huddleston to nominate a place where he would 


attend his majesty about one of the clock the same 

Upon this intelligence, my lord made stay of Mrs 
Jane Lane's journey to Bristol, tiU his majest/s 
pleasure was known. 

John Penderel returned to Boscobel in the after- 
noon, with intimation of this designed meeting with 
my lord at Moseley that night, and the place which 
was appointed by Mr Huddleston where his majesty 
should be expected. But his majesty, having not 
recovered his late foot journey to Madeley, was not 
able without a horse to perform this to Moseley, 
which was about five miles distant from Boscobel, 
and near the midway from thence to Bentley. 

It was therefore concluded that his majesty 
should ride upon Humphrey Penderel's mill-horse 
(for Humphrey was the miller of White Ladies 
mill). The horse was taken up from grass, and 
accoutred, not with rich trappings or furniture, 
befitting so great a king, but with a pitiful old 
saddle, and a worse bridle. 

AVhen his majesty was ready to take horse. 
Colonel Carlis humbly took leave of him, being 
so well known in the country, that his attendance 
upon his majesty would in all probability have 
proved rather a disservice than otherwise ; how- 
ever, his hearty prayers were not wanting for his 
majesty's preservation. 

Thus then his majesty was mounted, and thus 
he rode towards Moseley, attended by all the houest 
brothers, William, John, Richard, Humphrey, and 
George Pendcrel, and Francis Yates ; each of these 
took a bill or pike staff on his back, and some 
of them had pistols in their pockets ; two marched 
before, and one on each side his majesty's horse, 
and two came behind aloof off ; their design being 
this, that in case they should have been questioned 
or encountered but by five or six troopers, or such 
like small party, they would have showed their 
vaJour in defending, as well as they had done their 
fidelity in otherwise seiTing his majesty ; and 
though it was midnight, yet they conducted his 
majesty through by-ways, for better security. 

After some experience had of the horse, his ma- 
jesty complained, " it was the heaviest dull jade he 
ever rode on ; " to which Humphrey (the owner of 
him) answered, (beyond the usual capacity of a 
miller) : " My liege, can you blame the horse to go 
heavily, when he has the weight of tliree kingdoms 
on his back V 

When his majesty came to Penford miE, within 
two miles of Mr Whitgreave's house, his guides 
desired him to alight and go on foot the rest of 
the ■way, for more security, the foot way being the 
more secure, and the nearer ; and at last they 
arrived at the place appointed by Mr Huddleston 


(which was a little grove of trees, in a close of Mr 
Whitgreave's, called the Pit-Leasow), in order to his 
majesty's being privately conveyed into Mr Whit- 
greave's house; William, Humphrey, and George, 
returned with the horse, the other three attended 
his majesty to the house ; but his majesty, being 
gone a little way, had forgot (it seems) to bid fare- 
well to William and the rest who were going back, 
so he called to them and said, " My troubles make 
me forget myself ; I thank you all ! '* and gave them 
his hand to kiss. 

The Lord Wilmot, in pursuance of his own ap- 
pointment, came to the meeting place precisely at 
his hour, where Mr Whitgreave received him, and 
conveyed him to his old chamber ; but hearing 
nothing of the king at his prefixed time gave occa- 
sion to suspect some misfortune might have befallen 
him, though the night was very dark and rainy, 
which might possibly be the occasion of so long 
stay ; Mr Whitgreave therefore leaves my lord in 
his chamber, and goes to Pit-Leasow, where Mr 
Huddleston attended his majesty's coming ; and 
about two hours after the time appointed his ma- 
jesty came, whom Mr Whitgreave and Mr Huddle- 
ston conveyed, with much satisfaction, into the 
house to my lord, who expected him with great 
solicitude, and presently kneeled down and embraced 
his majesty's knees, who kissed my lord on the 

cheek, and asked him earnestly, " What is become 
of Buckingham, Cleveland, and others ? " To which 
ray lord could give little satisfaction, but hoped 
they were in safety. 

My lord soon after (addressing himself to Whit- 
greave and Mr Huddleaton) said : " Though I have 
concealed my friend's name all this while, now I 
must tell you, this is my master, your master, and 
the master of us all," not knowing that they under- 
stood it was the king ; whereupon his majesty was 
pleased to give his hand to Mr Whitgreave and Mr 
Huddleston to kiss, and told them he had received 
such an account from my Lord Wilmot of their 
fidelity, that he should never forget it ; and pre- 
sently asked Mr Whitgreave, " Where ia your secret 
place 1" which being showed his majesty, he was 
well pleased therewith, and returning into my lord's 
chamber, sat down on the bed-side, where his nose 
fell a-bleeding, and then pulled out of his pocket a 
handkerchief suitable to the rest of his apparel, 
both coarse and dirty. 

Hie majesty's attire, as was before observed in 
part, was then a leathern doublet, with pewter 
buttons, a pair of old green breeches, and a jump 
coat (as the country calls it) of the same green, a 
pair of his own stockings, with the tops cut off, 
because embroidered, and a pair of stirrup stock- 
ings, which were lent him at Madeley, and a pair of 


old shoes, cut and slashed to give ease to his feet, 
an old gray greasy hat, without a lining, a noggen 
shirt of the coarsest linen ; his face and his hands 
made of a reechy complexion, by the help of the 
walnut-tree leaves. 

Mr Huddleston, observing the coarseness of his 
majesty's shirt to disease him much and hinder his 
rest, asked my lord if the king would be pleased to 
change his shirt, which his majesty condescended 
unto, and presently put off his coarse shirt and put 
on a flaxen one of Mr Huddleston's, who pulled off 
his majesty's shoes and stockings, and put him on 
fresh stockings, and dried his feet, where he found 
somebody had innocently, but indiscreetly, applied 
white paper, which, with going on foot from the 
place where his majesty alighted to the house, was 
rolled betwixt his stockings and his skin, and served 
to increase rather than assuage the soreness of his 

Mr Whitgreave had by this time brought up some 
biscuit and a bottle of sack ; his majesty eat of the 
one, and drank a good glass of the other ; and, being 
thus refreshed, was pleased to say cheerfully, " I am 
now ready for another march ; and if it shall please 
God once more to place me at the head of but eight 
or ten thousand good men, of one mind, and resolved 
to fight, I shall not doubt to drive these rogues out 
of my kingdoms." 

It was now break of the day on Monday morning 
the 8th of September, and his majesty was desirous 
to take some rest ; to which purpose a pallet was 
carried into one of the secret places, where his ma- 
jesty lay down, but rested not so well as his 
host desired, for the place was close and incon- 
venient, and durst not adventure to put him into 
any bed in an open chamber, for fear of a surprise 
by the rebels. 

Aftei' some rest taken in the whole, his majesty 
got up, and was pleased to take notice of and salute 
Mr Whitgreave's mother, and (having his place of 
retreat still ready) sat between whiles in a closet 
over the porch, where he might see those that passed 
the road by the house. 

Before the Lord Wilmot betook himself to his 
dormitory, he conferred with Mr Whitgreave, and 
advised that himself or Mr Iluddleston would be 
always vigilant about the house, and give notice if 
any soldiei-s came ; " and," says this noble lord. " if 
it should so fall out tliat the rebels have intelligence 
of your harbouring any of the king's party, and 
should therefore put you to any torture for confes- 
sion, be sm-e you discover me fii-at, which may haply 
in such case satisfy them, and preserve the king," 
This was the expression and care of a loyal subject, 
worthy eternal memory. 

On Monday, his majesty and ray lord resolved 


to dispatch John Penderel to Colonel Lane at Bent- 
ley, with directions for the colonel to send my 
lord's horses for him that night about midnight, 
and to expect him at the usual place. My lord 
accordingly goes to Bentley again, to make way for 
his majesty's reception there, pursuant to a resolu- 
tion taken up by his majesty to go westward, under 
the protection of Mrs Jane Lane's pass ; it being 
most probable that the rebels wholly pursued his 
majesty northwards, and would not at all suspect 
him gone into the west. 

This Monday afternoon, Mr Whitgreave had 
notice that some soldiers were in the neighbour- 
hood, intending to apprehend him, upon informa- 
tion that he had been at Worcester fight. The 
king was then laid down upon Mr Huddleston's 
bed, but Mr Whitgreave presently secures his royal 
guest in the secret place, and my lord also leaves 
open all the chamber doors, and goes boldly down 
to the soldiers, assuring them (as his neighbours 
also testified) that he had not been from home in 
a fortniglit then last past ; with which assevera- 
tion the soldiers were satisfied, and came not up 
stairs at all. 

In this interval the rebels had taken a cornet in 
Cheshire, who came in his majesty's troop to White 
Ladies, and either by menaces, or some other way, 
had extorted this confession from him concerning 

the king (whom theae bloodhounds sought with all 
possible diligence), that he came in company with 
hia majesty to Wliite Ladies, where the rebels had 
no small hopes to find him ; whereupon they posted 
thither without ever drawing bit, almost killed their 
horses, and brought their faint-hearted prisoners 
with them. 

Being come to White Ladies on Tuesday, they 
called for Mr George Giffard, who lived in an apart- 
ment of the house, presented a pistol to his breast, 
and bad hin^ confess where the king was, or he 
should presently die. Mr Gifiard was too loyal 
and too much a gentleman, to be frighted into 
any infidelity, resolutely denies the knowing any 
more but that divers cavaliers came thither on 
Wednesday night, ate up their provision, and de- 
parted ; and that he was as ignorant who they 
were, aa whence they came, or whither they went ; 
and begged, if he must die. that they would first 
give him leave to say a few prayers. One of these 
villains answered, " If you can t«ll us no news of 
the king, you shall say no prayers." But his dis- 
creet answer did somewhat assuage the fury of their 
leader. They used the like threats and violence 
(mingled, notwithstanding, with liigh promises of 
reward) to Mrs Anne Andrew (to whose custody 
some of the king's clothes, when he first took upon 
him the disguise, were committed), who (like a true 


virago) faithfully sustained the one, and loyally re- 
fused the other, which put the rebels into such a 
fury, that they searched every comer of the house, 
broke down much of the wainscot, and at last beat 
the intelligencer severely for making them lose their 

During this Tuesday, in my Lord Wilmot's ab- 
sence, his majesty was for the most part attended 
by Mr Huddleston, Mr Whitgreave being much 
abroad in the neighbourhood, and Mrs Whitgreave 
below stairs, both inquisitive after news, and the 
motions of the soldiery, in order to the preservation 
of their royal guest. The old gentlewoman was 
this day told by a countryman, who came to her 
house, that he heard the king, upon his retreat, 
had beaten his enemies at Warrington Bridge, and 
that there were three kings come in to his assist- 
ance ; which story she related to his majesty for 
divertisement, who smiling, answered, " Surely they 
are the three Kings of Cologne come down from 
heaven, for I can imagine none else." 

The same day his majesty out of the closet win- 
dow espied two soldiers, who passed by the gate in 
the road, and told Mr Huddleston he knew one of 
them to be a Highlander, and of his own regiment ; 
who little thought his king and colonel to be so 

And his majesty, for entertainment of the time, 

was pleased to discourse with Mr Huddleston the 
particulars of the battle of Worcester (the same in 
Bubstance with what is before related) ; and lay 
some words wliich his majesty let fall, it might 
easily be collected that his counsels had been too 
often sooner discovered to the rebels than executed 
by his loyal subjects. 

Mr Huddleston had under his charge yoimg Sir 
John Preston, Mr Thomas Playn, and Mr Francis 
RejTiolds, and on this Tuesday in the morning 
{the better to conceal his majesty's being in the 
house, and excuse his own more than usual long stay 
above stairs) pretended himself to be indisposed and 
afraid of the soldiers, and therefore set his scholars 
at several garret windows, and surveyed the roads, 
to watch and give notice when they saw any 
troopers coming. This service the youths performed 
very diligently all day ; and at niglit when they 
were at supper. Sir John called upon his compan- 
ions, and said (more truly than he imagined), " Come, 
lads, let us eat lustily, for we have been upon the 
life guard to-day." 

This very day (September the 9th), the rebels 
at Westminster (in further pursuance of their bloody 
designs) set forth a proclamation for the discovery 
aud apprehending Charles Stuart (for bo their front- 
less impudence usually styled his sacred majesty), 
his adherents and abettors, with promise of XlOOO 


reward to whomsoever should apprehend him (so 
vile a price they set upon so inestimable a jewel) ; 
and, besides, gave strict command to all officers of 
port towns, that they should permit no person to 
pass beyond sea without special license. "And 
Saul sought David every day ; but God delivered 
him not into his hand." * 

On Tuesday night, between twelve and one 
o'clock, the Lord Wilmot sent Colonel Lane to attend 
his majesty to Bentley ; Mr Whitgreave meets the 
colonel at the place appointed, and brings him to 
the comer of his orchard, where the colonel thought 
fit to stay whilst Mr Whitgreave goes in and 
acquaints the king that he was come ; whereupon 
his majesty took his leave of Mrs Whitgreave, salu- 
ted her, and gave her many thanks for his enter- 
tainment, but was pleased to be more particular 
with Mr Whitgreave and Mr Huddleston, not only 
by giving them thanks, but by telling them he was 
very sensible of the dangers they might incur by 
entertaining him, if it should chance to be discov- 
ered to the rebels ; therefore his majesty advised 
them to be very careful of themselves, and gave 
them direction to repair to a merchant in Lon- 
don, who should have order to furnish them with 
moneys and means of conveyance beyond sea, if 
they thought fit. 

♦ 1 Sam. xxiii. 14. 

After his majesty liad vouchsafed theae gracious 
expressions to Mr Whitgreave and Mr Huddleston, 
they told his majesty all the service they could 
now do him was to pray heartily to Almighty God 
for his safety and preservation ; and then kneehng 
down, his majesty gave them his hand to kiss, and 
so went down stairs with them into the orchard, 
where Mr Whitgreave both humbly and faithfidly 
delivered his great charge into Colonel Lane's hands, 
telling the colonel who the person was he there pre- 
sented to him. 

The night was both dark and cold, and hia 
majesty's clothing thin ; therefore Mr Huddleston 
humbly ofi'ered his majesty a cloak, which he was 
pleased to accept, and wore to Bentley, from whence 
Mr Huddleston afterwards received it. 

As soon as Mr Wliitgreave and ilr Huddleston 
heard bis majesty was not only got safe to Bentley, 
but marched securely &'om thence, they began to 
reflect upon his advice, and lest any discovery should 
be made of what had been acted at Moseley, they 
both absented theraselvea from home ; the one went 
to London, the other to a friend's house in War- 
wickshire, where they lived privately till such time 
as they heard his majesty waa safely arrived in 
France, and that no part of the aforesaid transac- 
tions at Moseley had been discovered to the rebels, 
and then returned home. 


This Mr Whitgreave was descended of the ancient 
family of the Whitgreaves of Burton, in the county 
of Stafford, and was first a cornet, afterwards lieu- 
tenant to Captain Thomas Giffard, in the first war 
for his majesty King Charles the First. 

Mr John Huddleston was a younger brother of the 
renowned family of the house of Hutton-John, in the 
county of Cumberland, and was a gentleman volim- 
teer in his late majesty's service, first under Sir John 
Preston the elder, till Sir John was rendered unser- 
viceable by the desperate wounds he received in that 
service, and after under Colonel Ralph Pudsey at 

His majesty being safely conveyed to Bentley by 
Colonel Lane, staid there but a short time, took the 
opportunity of Mrs Jane's pass, and rode before her 
to Bristol, the Lord Wilmot attending, by another 
way, at a distance. In all which journey Mrs Lane 
performed the part of a most faithful and prudent 
servant to his maj esty , showing her observance when 
an opportunity would allow it, and at other times 
acting her part in the disguise with much discretion. 

But the particulars of his majesty's arrival at 
Bristol, and the houses of several loyal subjects, both 
in Somersetshire, Dorsetshire, AViltshire, Hampshire, 
and so to Brighthempston, in Sussex, where he, on 
the 15th of October 1651, took shipping, and landed 
secm-ely in France the next morning; and the 


several accidents, hardships, and encounters, in all 
that journey, must be the admired subject of the 
Second Part of this history. 

The very next day after his majesty left Boscobel, 
being Monday the 8th of September, two parties of 
i-ebels came thither, the one being part of the comity 
troop, who searched the house with some civility ; 
the other (Captain Broadway's men) did it with 
more severity, eat up their little store of provision, 
plundered the house of what was portable, and one 
of them presented a pistol to William Penderel, and 
much frighted my dame Joan ; yet both paities re- 
turned as ignorant as they came of that intelligence 
they 30 greedily sought after. 

This danger being over, honest William began to 
think of making satisfaction for the fat mutton, and 
accordingly tendered Mr Staunton its worth in 
money ; but Staunton understanding the sheep was 
killed for the relief of some honest cavaliers, who had 
been sheltered at Boscobel, refused to take the money, 
but wished much good it might do them. 

These Penderels were of honest parentage, but 
mean degree ; six brothers, bom at Hobbal Grange, 
in the parish of Tong, and county of Salop ; William, 
John, ilichard, Humphi'y, Thomas,' and George. 
John, Thrjmas, and George were soldiers in the first 
war for King Charles I. Thomas was slain at Stow 
fight ; William, as you have heai-d, was a servant at 


Boscobel ; Humphiy, a miller, and Richard, lented 
part of Hobbal Grange. 

His majesty had not been long gone from Boscobel, 
but Colonel Carlis sent William Penderel to Mr 
Humphry Ironmonger, his old friend at Wolverhamp- 
ton, who not only procured him a pass from some of 
the rebel commanders, in a disguised name, to go to 
London, but furnished him with money for his jour- 
iiey, by means whereof he got safe thither, and from 
thence into Holland, where he brought the first 
happy news of his majesty's safety to his royal sister 
the Princess of Orange. 

This Colonel William Carlis was bom at Bromhall, 
in StaflFordshire, within two miles of Boscobel, of good 
parentage, was a person of approved valour, and en- 
gaged all along in the first war for King Charles I. of 
happy memory, and since his death was no less active 
for his royal son ; for which, and his particular ser- 
vice and fidelity before mentioned, his majesty was 
pleased, by letters patents under the great seal of 
England, to give him, by the name of William Carlos 
(which in Spanish signifies Charles), a very honour- 
able coat of arms, in perpetuam rei mentor laiiiy as 
'tis expressed in the letters patents. 

The oak is now properly called " The Royal Oak 
of Boscobel,'' nor will it lose that name whilst it con- 
tinues a tree, nor that tree a memory whilst we have 
an inn left in England ; since the " Koyal Oak " is 

now become a frequent sign, both in London and all 
tlie chief cities of this kingdom. And since his 
majest/s happy restanration, that these mysteries 
have been revealed, hundreds of people for many 
miles round have flocked to see the famous Boscobel, 
which (as you have heard) had once the honour to 
be the palace of his sacred majesty, but chiefly to 
behold the Royal Oak, which has been deprived of 
all its young boughs by the numerous visitors of it, 
who keep them in memory of his majesty's happy 
preservation, insomuch that MrFitzherbert. who was 
afterwai-ds proprietor, was forced in a due season of 
the year to crop part of it, for its preservation, and 
put himself to the charge of fencing it about with a 
high pale, the better to transmit the happy memory 
of it to posterity. 

This Boscobel House has yet been a third time 
fortunate ; for after Sir George Booth's forces were 
routed in Cheshire, in August 1659, the Lord Brere- 
ton, who was engaged with him, took sanctuaiy there 
for some time, and was presen'ed. 

When his majesty was thus happily conveyed 
away by Colonel Lane and his sister, the rebels had 
an intimation that some of the brothers were instru- 
mental in his preservation, so that, besides the 
temptations Humphry overcame at Shefnal, Wil- 
liam Penderel was twice questioned at Shrewsbury on 
the same account by Captain Fox, and one Lluellin, a 


sequestrator, and Kichard was much threatened by 
a peevish neighbour at White Ladies ; but neither 
threats nor temptations were able to batter the fort 
of their loyalty. 

After this unhappy defeat of his majesty's army 
at Worcester, good God ! in what strange canting 
language did the fanaticks communicate their exul- 
tations to one another, particularly in a letter (hy- 
pocritically pretended to be written from the Church 
of Christ at Wrexham, and printed in the Diurnal, 
November 10, 1651) there is this malignant expres- 
sion : " Christ has revealed his own arm, and broke 
the arm of the mighty once and again, and now 
lastly at Worcester ; so that we conclude (in Ezekiel's 
phrase) there will be found no roller to bind the late 
king s arm to hold a sword again,'' &c. And that 
you may know who these false prophets were, the 
letter was thus subscribed : " Daniel Lloyd, Mor. 
Lloyd, John Brown, Edw. Taylor, An. Maddokes, 
Dav. Maiuice ; " men who measured causes by that 
success which fell out according to their evil desires, 
not considering that God intended, in his own good 
time, " to establish the king s throne with justice."* 

After the " king had entered into the kingdom, 
and returned to his own land," t the five brothers 
attended him at Whitehall, on AVednesday the 13th 

* Prov. XXV. 5. t Dan. xi. 9. 


of June 1660, when his majesty was pleased to own 
their faithful service, and graciously dismissed them 
with a princely reward. 

And soon after Mr Huddleston and Mr Whit- 
greave made their humble addresses to his majesty, 
from whom they likewise received a gracious acknow- 
ledgment of their service and fidelity to him at Mose- 
ley, and this in so high a degree of gratitude, and with 
such a condescending frame of spirit, not at all pufied 
up with prosperity, as cannot be paraUeled in the 
best of kings. 

Here let us with all glad and thankful hearts 
humbly contemplate the admirable providence of 
Almighty God, who contrived such wonderful ways, 
and made use of such mean instruments, for the pre- 
servation of so great a person. Let us delight to 
reflect minutely on every particular, and especially 
on such as most approach to miracle ; let us sum up 
the number of those who were privy to this first and 
principal part of his majesty's disguise and conceal- 
ment : Mr Gifiard, the five Penderels, their mother, 
and three of their wives, Colonel Carlos, Francis 
Yates, and his wife, divers of the inhabitants of 
White Ladies (which then held five several families), 
Mr Woolf, his wife, son, daughter, and maid, Mr 
Whitgreave and his mother, Mr Huddleston, Colonel 
Lane and his sister ; and then consider whether it 
were not indeed a miracle, that so many men and 


(which is far more) so many women should faithfully 
conceal so important and unusual a secret ; and this 
notwithstanding the temptations and promises of re- 
ward on the one hand, and the danger and menaces 
of punishment on the other. 

To which I shall add but this one circumstance, 
that it was performed by persons for the most part 
of that religion which has long suflfered under an im- 
putation (laid on them by some mistaken zealots) 
of disloyalty to their sovereign. 

And now, as we have thus thankfully commemo- 
rated the wonderful preservation of his majesty, 
what remains but that we should return due thanks 
and praises for his no less miraculous restoration ; 
who, after a long series of misfortunes, and variety 
of affictions, after he had been hunted to and fro like 
a "partridge upon the mountains/' was, in God's due 
time, appointed to sit, as his vicegerent, upon the 
throne of his ancestors, and called forth to govern 
his own people when they least expected him ; for 
which all the nation, even all the three nations, had 
just cause to sing 

Te Deum lavdamus. 









" He shall call upon me, and I will answer him : I mil 
be with him in trouble ; I will deliver him, and 
honcur him,** — PsaL xci 15. 


The First Part of this miraculous History I long 
since published, having the means to be well in- 
formed in all circumstances relating to it ; the scene 
(whereon those great actions were performed) being 
my native country, and many of the actors my 
particular friends. 

I did not then intend to have proceeded farther, 
presuming some of those worthy persons of the west 
(who were the happy instruments in this Second 
Part) would have given us that so much desired 
supplement ; the rather, since the publication of 
the wonderful series of this great work, wherein the 
hand of God so miraculously appeared in preservation 
of " him whom the Lord hath chosen," * must needs 
open the eyes and convert the hearts of the most 

But finding, in all this time, nothing done, and 
the world more greedy of it than ever young ladies 
were to read the conclusion of an amorous strange 
romance, after they had left the darling lover plunged 

* 1 Sam. X. 24. 


into some dire misfortune, I have thus endeavoured 
to compleat the History. 

Chiefly encouraged hereunto by an express j&x)m 
Lisbon, wherein 'tis certified that (besides the trans- 
lation of the first part of Boscohd into French) Mr 
Peter Giffard of White Ladies has lately made it speak 
Portuguese, and presented it to the infanta, our most 
excellent queen, who was pleased to accept it with 
grace, and peruse it with passion, intimating her 
royal desire to see the particulars how the hand of 
Providence had led the great monarch of her heart 
out of the treacherous snares of so many rebels. 

In this I dare not undertake to deliver so many 
particulars as in the former ; for though the time of 
his majesty's stay in those western parts was longer, 
yet the places were more remote, and my Lord Wil- 
mot (the principal agent) dead. But I will again 
confidently promise to write nothing but truth, as 
near as a severe scrutiny can inform me. 

And, perhaps, a less exactness in circumstantials 
will better please some who (as I have heard) object 
against my former endeavours on this royal subject 
as too minutely written, and particulars set down of 
too mean a concern, for which I have yet the example 
of that renowned historian, Famian Strada,* to pro- 
tect me, who writing of the Emperor Charles the 

* De Bello Belgico. 


Fifth, mentions what meat he fed on such a day, 
what clothes he wore another time, and gives this 
reason, " that it pleases to know every thing that 
princes do,'* especially when by a chain of provi- 
dences, whose every link seems small and weak in 
its single self, so great a " blessing ^' will at last be 
drawn in amongst us. 

That part of this unparalleled relation of a king, 
which here I imdertake to deliver, may fitly, I think, 
be called, " The Second Stage of the Royal Progress,'' 
wherein as I am sure every good subject will be as- 
tonished to read the hardships and difficulties his 
majesty encountered in this long and perilous jour- 
ney, so will they be even overjoyed to find him at 
last (by the conduct of Heaven) brought safe to 
Paris, where my humble endeavours leave him thus 
comforted by the prophet : " Fear not, for the hand 
of Saul shall not find thee, and thou shalt be king 

over Israel.'' * 

T. B. 

* 1 Sam. xxiii. 17. 






He that well considers the admirable events par- 
ticularised in the First Part of this History of his 
inajesty's miraculous preservation, will be apt to 
think his evil genius had almost racked its invention 
to find out hardships and perils beyond human 
imagination, and that his good angel had been even 
tired out with contriving suitable means for his 
deliverance; "yet, if you please (after you have 
suflSciently wondered and blessed God for the pre- 
servation you read there), proceed and admire the 
strange stupendous passages you shall find here ; 
which when you have done with just and due 
attention, I cannot doubt but your thoughts will 
easily raise themselves into some holy extasy, and 
growing warm with often repeating their own re- 
flections, break forth at last, and join your exclama- 


tions with all the true and hearty adorers of the 
divine Providence, "Thou art great, Lord, and 
dost wonderful things ; thou art God alone 1*** 

I shall not need, I hope, to bespeak my readers' 
patience for any long introduction, since all the com- 
pliment I intend, is humbly to kiss the pen and 
paper, which have the honour to be servants of this 
royal subject, and without farther ceremony begin. 

Colonel John Lane having (as it has been related) 
safely conveyed his majesty from Moseley to his 
own house at Bentley, in Staffordshire, on Tuesday 
night, the 9th of September 1651, the Lord Wilmot 
was there ready to receive him, and after his majesty 
had eaten and conferred with my lord and the colonel 
of his intended journey towards Bristol the very next 
morning, he went to bed, though his rest was not 
like to be long ; for at the very break of the day on 
Wednesday morning the colonel called up his majesty, 
and brought him a new suit and cloak, w^hich he 
had provided for him, of country grey cloth, as near 
as could be contrived like the holyday suit of a 
farmer s son, which was thought fittest to carry on 
the disguise. Here his majesty quitted his leather 
doublet and green breeches for this new grey suit, 
and forsook his former name Will. Jones for that of 
Will. Jackson. 

* Psalm Ixxxvi. 10. 

Thus, then, was the royal journey designed : the 
king, as a tenant's son (a quality far more con- 
venient for their intention than that of a direct 
servant), was ordered to ride before Mrs Jane Lane 
as her attendant, Mr Henry Lassela (who was kins- 
man, and had been coronet to the colonel in the late 
wars) to ride single, and Mr John Petre of Horton 
in Buckinghamshire, and his wife, the colonel's sister, 
who were then accidentally at Bentley, being bound 
homeward, to ride in the same company ; Mr Petre 
and his wife little suspecting WilL Jackson, their 
fellow-traveller, to be the monarch of Great Britain. 

His majesty thus refreshed and thus accoutred 
with all necessaries for a journey in the designed 
equipage, after he had taken leaV^ of my Lord WU- 
mot, and agreed on their meeting Ttithin a few days 
after at Mr George Norton's house at Leigh, neai' 
Bristol ; the colonel conveyed him a liack way into 
the stable, where he fitted his stirrups, and gave 
him some instructions for better acting the part 
of Will. Jackson, mounted liim on a good double 
gelding, and directed him to come to the gate of the 
house, which he punctually performed, with his hat 
under his arm. 

By this time it was twilight, and old Mrs Lane 
(who knew nothing of this great secret) would needs 
see her beloved daughter take horse, which whilst 
she was intending, the colonel said to the king. 


" Will, thou must give my sister thy hand f but 
his majesty (unacquainted with such little oflSces) 
oflFered his hand the contrary way, which the old 
gentlewoman taking notice of, laughed, and asked 
the colonel her son, " What a goodly horseman her 
daughter had got to ride before her V^ 

Mr Petre and his wife, and Mr Lassels being also 
mounted, the whole company took their journey 
(under the protection of the King of kings) towards 
Stratford-upon-Avon, in Warwickshire. And soon 
after they were gone from Bentley, the Lord Wilmot, 
Colonel Lane, and Robert Swan my lord's servant, 
took horse, with a hawk and spaniels with them for 
a disguise, intending to go that night to Sir Clement 
Fishers house at Packington, in Warwickshire, 
where the colonel knew they should both be as 
welcome as generosity, and as secure as fidelity 
could make tliem. 

When the king and his small retinue arrived near 
Wotton, within four miles of Stratford, they espied 
a troop of rebels, baiting (as they conceived) almost 
a mile before them in the very road, which caused 
a council to be held among them, wherein Mr Petre 
presided, and he would by no means go on, for fear 
of losing his horse, or some other detriment ; so 
that they wheeled about a more indirect way ; and 
at Stratford (where they were of necessity to pass 
the river Avon) met the same or another troop in a 


narrow passage, who very fairly opened to the right 
and left, and made way for the travellers to maich 
through tbem. 

That night (according to designment) Mrs Lane 
and her company took up their quartera at Mr 
Tombs' house, at Longmaraton, some three miles 
west of Stratford, with tt'hom she was well acquainted. 
Here Will. Jackaon Ijeing in the kitchen, in pursu- 
ance of his disguise, and the cook maid busy in 
provitling supper for her master's friends, she de- 
sired, him to wind up the jack ; Will, Jacfeon was 
obedient, and attempted it, but hit not the right 
way, which made the maid in some passion ask, 
"What countryman are you, that you know not 
how to wind up a jack V Will, Jackson answered 
very satisfactorily, "I am a poor tenant s son of 
Colonel Lane, in Staffordshire ; we seldom have 
roast meat, but when we have, we don't make use 
of a jack :" which in some measure asswaged the 
maid's indignation. 

The same night my lord, with the colonel, arrived 
safely at Sir Clement Fisher's house at Packington, 
where they found a welcome suitable to the noble- 
ness of his mind, and a security answerable to the 
faithfulness of his heart. 

Next morning my lord thought fit to dispatch 
the colonel to London, to procure, if possible, a pass 
for the king, by the name of William Jackson, to go 


into France, and to bring it himself, or send it (as 
opportunity should be offered) to Mr Norton's 
house, where my lord (as you have heard) was 
designed to attend his majesty. 

On Thursday morning (11th of September), the 
king, with Mrs Lane and Mr Lassels, rose early, 
and after Mrs Lane had taken leave both of Mr 
Petre and his wife (whose way lay more south), and 
of Mr Tombs, the master of the house, they took 
horse, and without any considerable accident rode 
by Camden, and arrived that night at an inn in 
Cirencester, in Gloucestershire, distant about twenty- 
four miles from Longmarston. After supper, a good 
bed was provided for Mr Lassels, and a truckle bed 
for Will. Jackson in the same chamber; but Mr 
Lassels, after the chamberlain had left them, laid 
his majesty in the best bed, and himself in the other, 
and used the like due observance when any opix)r- 
tunity would allow it. 

The next day, being Friday, the royal traveller, 
with his attendants, left Cirencester, and by the 
way of Sudbury rode to and through the city of 
Bristol (wherein they had once lost their way, till 
inquiry better informed them), and arrived that 
evening at Mr Norton's house, at Leigh, some 
three miles from Bristol, and about thirty from 
Cirencester, which was the desired end of this peril- 
lous journey. 


At this place his majesty still continued under 
the notion of one of Colonel Lane's tenant's son^ 
and, by a presettled contrivance with Mrs Lane, 
feigned himself sick of an ague, imder colour whereof 
she procured him the Iietter chamber and accommo- 
dation without any suspicion, and still took occasion 
from thence, with all possible care and observancej 
to send the sick person some of the beat meat from 
Mr Norton's table ; and Mrs Norton's maid, Mar- 
garet Rider (who was commanded to be his nurse- 
keeper, and believed him sick indeed,) made William 
a carduus posset, and was very careful of him ; nor 
was his majesty- at aU known or suspected here, 
wther by Mr Norton or his lady, from whose know- 
ledge yet, he was not concealed out of any the least 
distrust of their fidelity (for his whole dominions 
yielded not more faithful subjects), but because such 
knowledge might haply at unawares have drawn a 
greater respect and observance from them than that 
exigent woidd safely admit of. 

Under the disguise of this ague, his majesty for 
the most part kept his chamber during his stay at 
Leigh ; yet, being somewhat wearied with that kmd 
of imprisonment, one day (when his ague might be 
imagined to be in the intennission) he walked down 
to a place where the yoimg men played at a game 
of ball called fives, where his majesty was asked by 
ODe of the gamesters if he could play, and woidd 


take his part at that game ; he pleaded unskilfiilness, 
and modestly refused. 

But behold an unexpected accident here fell out, 
which put his majesty and Mrs Lane into some 
apprehension of the danger of a discovery. Mr 
Norton's butler (whose name was John Pope) had 
served a courtier some years before the war, and his 
majesty's royal father in the war, under Colonel 
Bagot, at Litchfield, and by that means had the 
physiognomy of the king (then Prince of Wales) 
so much imprinted in his memory, that (though his 
majesty was in all points most accurately disguised), 
yet the butler knew him, and conmiunicated his 
knowledge to Mrs Lane, who at first absolutely 
denied him to be the king, but after, upon confer- 
ence and advice had with his majesty, it was 
thought best to acknowledge it to the butler, and, 
by the bonds of allegiance, conjure him to secresy, 
who thereupon kissed the king s hand, and proved 
perfectly honest. 

On Saturday night (13 th of September) the Lord 
Wilmot arrived at a village near Leigh, where he 
lay, but came every day to visit Will. Jackson and 
Mrs Lane, as persons of his acquaintance ; and 
so had the opportunity to attend and consult 
with his majesty unsuspected during their stay 
at Leigh. 

Soon after, upon serious advice had with my 


lord, it was resolved by his majesty to go to Trent, 
the house of CoIoQel Francis Wyndham (of whose 
fidelity his majesty had ample assurance), which 
lies in Somersetshire, but bordering on the very 
fikirta of Dorsetshire, near Sherburn, aud therefore 
was judged to be conveniently seated in the way 
towards Lime and other port towns, where his ma- 
jesty might probably take shipping for France. 

In purauance of this resolve, the Lord Wilmot 
(as liis majesty's harbinger) rode to Trent on Mon- 
day, to make way for his more private reception 
there ; and Tuesday morning (September 1 6), his 
majesty's ague being then (as was pretended) in 
the recess, he repaired to the stable, and there gave 
order for making ready the horses ; aud then it 
was signified from Mrs Lane (though before so 
agreed), that William Jackson should ride single and 
carry the portmant-eau ; accordingly they mounted, 
being attended part of the way by one of Mr Nor- 
ton's men as a guide, and that day rode through 
the body of Someiiietshire, to Air Edward Kirton's 
house at Castle Gary, near Burton, where his ma- 
jesty lay that night, and next morning arrived at 
Colonel Wyndham's said house, which was about 
tweuty-six miles from Leigh. 

His majesty was now at Trent, in as much safety 
as the master of the house his fidelity and prudence 
could make him ; but the great work was how to 


procure a vessel for transportation of this great trea- 
sure. For this end his majesty, the Lord Wilmot, 
Colonel Wyndham, had several consults; and in 
pursuance of their determination, the colonel, with 
his trusty servant Henry Peters, posted to Lime, 
which is about twenty miles from Trent, where, after 
some difficulty, by the assistance of Captain William 
Elsden, a loyal subject (at whose house the colonel 
lodged), he hired a bark to transport his majesty for 
France, which bark was by agreement to attend at 
Charmouth (a little maritime village near Lime) at 
a time appointed, and returned with all speed to 
Trent with the good news. 

The next day his majesty resolved for Lime, and 
Mrs Jane Lane here humbly took her leave of him, 
returning with Mr La^sels, by his majest/s per- 
mission, into Staffordshire, leaving him in faithful 
hands, and in a hopeful way of escaping the bloody 
designs of merciless rebels, which as it was all along 
the scope of her endeavours, so was it now the 
subject of her prayers ; yet it was still thought the 
best disguise for his majesty to ride before some 
woman, and accordingly Mrs Julian Coningsby, 
Colonel Wyndham's kinswoman, had the honour to 
ride behind his majesty, who with the Lord Wilmot, 
the colonel, and Henry Peters, came that evening to 
a blind inn in Charmouth, near which place the 

skipper haJ promised to be in readiness with his 
bark ; but observe the disappoiutinent. 

In the interim (whilst Colonel AVyndham was 
gone back to Trent) it seems the rebels' proclama- 
tion for apprehending Charles Stuart (meaning, in 
their impudent phrase, our then gracious king), and 
prohibiting, for a certain time, the transportation 
of any person without a particular license, had been 
published in and about Lime ; and the skipper 
having acquainted his wife that he had agreed to 
transport two or three persons into France, whom 
he believed might be cavaliers, it seems the grey 
mare was the better horse, for she locked up her 
husband in his chamber, and would by no means 
permit him to go the voyage ; so that whilst Heury 
Peters staid on the beach most part of the night, 
his majesty and the rest of the company sate up in 
the inn, expecting news of the seaman with his boat, 
who never appeared. 

The next morning, his majesty and attendants 
resolving to return to Trent, rode first to Bruteport, 
in Dorsetshire, where he staid at an inn, whilst 
Henry Peters was sent back to Captain Elsden, to 
Bee if there were any hope left of persuading the 
skipper, or rather of gaining leave of his wife, for 
him to undertake the voyage ; but all endeavours 
proved ineffectual, and by that time Harry returned. 


the day was so far spent that his majesty could 
conveniently reach no farther that night than Broad- 
Windsor ; and (which added much to the danger) 
Colonel Heane (one of Cromwell's commanders) at 
this very time was marching rebels from several 
garrisons to Wejnnouth and other adjacent ports^ 
in order to tlieir being shipped, for the forcing 
the island of Jersey from his majesty's obedience, 
as they had done all the rest of his dominions; 
so that the roads of this country were full of 

Broad- Windsor aflforded but one inn, and that 
the George, a mean one too, and (which was 
worse) the best accommodations in it were, before 
his majesty's arrival, taken up by rebel soldiers, 
one of whose doxies was brought to bed in the 
house, which caused the constable and overseers for 
the poor of the parish to come thither at an unsea- 
sonable hour of the night, to take care that the brat 
might not be left to the charge of the parish ; so 
that his majesty, through this disturbance, went 
not to bed at all ; and we may safely conclude he 
took as little rest here as he did the night before at 
Charmouth. Thus were " the tribulations of David's 
heart enlarged," and he prayed, "Deliver me, 
Lord, from my distresses." 

His majesty having still thus miraculously escaped 
dangers which houily environed him, returned safe 


to Trent next morning, where, after some refresh- 
ment and rest taken, be was pleased to call my 
Lord Wilraot and Colonel "Wyndliam (the members 
of hia little privy council) together, to consider 
what way was nest to be attempted for his trans- 

After several proposals, it was at last resolved 
that my lord (attended and conducted by Henry 
Peters) should the next day be sent to Salisbury 
to Mr John Coventry (son to the late Lord Coven- 
try, lord keeper of the great seal of England), who 
then lived in the close of that city, and was known 
to be both a prudent person and a perfect lover 
of his sovereign, as well to advise bow to procure 
a bark for passing his majesty into France, as for 
providing some moneys for his present necessary 

My lord, being arrived at Salisbury, dispatched 
Henry Peters back to Trent, with intimation of the 
good reception he foimd there ; for Mr Coventry 
did not only furnish him mth moneys, but was 
very solicitous for his majesty's safety ; to which 
end he advised with Dr Humphrey Henchman, a 
worthy divine, who, since his majesty's happy re- 
stauration, was with much merit advanced to the 
episcopal see of Salisbury. 

The result of these two loyal persons' consulta- 
tion was, that his majesty should be desired to 


remove to Hele (wliich lay about three miles north- 
east of Salisbury), the dwelling-house of Mrs Maiy 
Hyde, the relict of Laurence Hyde, Esq., eldest 
brother to Hon. Sir Robert Hyde, one of the justices 
of his majesty's Court of Common Pleas, whom they 
knew to be both as discreet and as loyal as any of 
her sex. 

With this resolution and advice, Mr Coventry 
dispatched his chaplain, Mr John Selleck, to Trent, 
with a letter, rolled up into the bigness of a musket 
bullet, which the faithful messenger had order to 
swallow down his throat in case of any danger. 

Meantime Mr Coventry had found out a trusty 
seaman at Southampton, who undertook to trans- 
port whom he pleased ; but on second thoughts 
and advice had with my Lord Wilmot, it was not 
held safe for his majesty to take shipping there, in 
regard of the so many castles by which the ships 
pass that are outward-bound, and the often exami- 
nation of the passengers in them ; so that some of 
the small ports of Sussex were concluded to be the 
safer places for effecting this great work of his 
majesty's delivery from the hands of such unparal- 
leled rebels, who even ravenously thirsted after 
royal blood. 

In the interim Mr Selleck returned with his ma- 
jesty's resolution to come to Hele, signified by a like 
paper bullet ; and by this time his majesty thought 


fit to admit of the service and assistance of Colonel 
Robert Philips {grandson to the famed Sir Edward 
Philips, late master of the rolls), who lived in those 
parts, aiid was well acquainted with the ways of 
the country, and known to be as faithful as loyalty 
could make him. This colonel undertook to be his 
majesty's conductor to Ilele, which was near thirty 
miles distant from Trent. 

During his majesty's stay at Trent (which was 
about a fortnight), he was, for his own security, 
forced to confine himself to the voluntary imprison- 
ment of his chamber, which was happily accommo- 
dated (in case the rebels had searched the house) 
with an old well-contrived secret place, long before 
made (for a shelter against the inquisition of pur- 
suivants) by some of the ancient family of the Ger- 
hards, Colonel Wj-ndham's lady's ancestors, who 
were recusants, and had formerly been o^Tiers of 
that house. 

His majesty's meat was likewise (to prevent the 
danger of a discoveiy) for the most part dressed 
in his own chamber, the cookery whereof served 
hi r" for some divertisement of the time ; and it is 
a great truth if we say, there was no cost spared, 
nor care wanting in the colonel, for the entertain- 
ment and preservation of his royal guest. 

On the 3d of October, his majesty (having given 


Colonel "WjTidliam particular thanks for his great 
care and fidelity towards him) left Trent, and began 
his journey with Colonel Philips, and personating a 
tenant s son of his, towards Hele, attended by 
Henry Peters (afterwards yeoman of the field to 
his majesty), and riding before Mrs Cunningsby. 
The travellers passed by Wincanton, and near the 
midst of that day's journey arrived at Mere, a little 
market town in Wiltshire, and dined at the George 
inn ; the hoast, Mr Christopher Philips, whom the 
colonel knew to be perfectly honest. 

The hoast sate at the table with his majesty, and 
administered matters of discourse, told the colonel, 
for news, that he heard the men of Westminster 
(meaning the rebels), notwithstanding their victory 
at Worcester, were in a great maze, not knowing 
what was become of the king ; but (says he) it is 
the most received opinion that he is come in a dis- 
guise to London, and many houses have been 
searched for him there : at which his majesty was 
observed to smile. 

After dinner, mine hoast familiarly asked the 
king " if he were a friend to Caesar 1 " to which his 
majesty answered, "Yes." "Then," said he, "here's 
a health to King Charles," in a glass of wine, which 
his majesty and the colonel both pledged ; and 
that evening arrived in safety at Hele. And his 
majesty, since his happy return, has been pleased 


to ask, " MTiat was Ijecoine of his honest hoast at 
Mere ? " 

In the mean time the Lord Wilmot (who took up 
the borrowed name of Mr Baiiow) rode to such 
gentlemen of his acquaintance in Hampshire, whom 
he knew to be faithfid subjects, to seek means for 
(what he 80 much thesired) the transportation of hia 
majesty ; and first repaired to Mr Laurence Hyde 
(a name as faithful as fortunate in his majesty's 
service), at Ms house at llinton d'Aubiguy, near 
Catharington, then to Mr Thomas Ilenslow, at Bur- 
hant, in the same county, to whom (as persons of 
known fidelity) my lord communicated hia weighty 
business, and desired their assistance for procuiing 
a bark for liig majesty's transportation. 

Mr Henslow (in zeal to this service) immediately 
acquainted the Earl of Southampton (then at his 
house at Titchfield, and afterwards with much merit 
dignified with the great office of lord high treasurer 
of England) with this most important affair, my 
Lord Wibnot judging it fitter for Mr Henslow (his 
neighboui') to do it, than for himself, in those cir- 
cimistances, to appear at my lord's house, whose 
eminent fidelity and singidar prudence, in the con- 
duct of even the greatest atiairs of state, being 
known both to them and all the world, and his 
great power and command at Bewly Haven, and 
the maritime parts of Hampshire, esteemed very 


favourable for their design, wherein his lordship was 
extremely active and solicitous. 

Besides this, Mr Laurence Hyde recommended 
my Lord Wilmot to Colonel George Gunter, who 
lived at Rackton, near Chichester, in Sussex, and 
was known to be both faithful and active, not un- 
like to be successftd in this service, to whom there- 
fore my lord hasted, and lay at Rackton one 
night, where he imparted his great solicitation to 
the colonel and his kinsman, Mr Thos. Gunter, who 
was then accidentally there. 

All these persons had the like instructions from 
my lord, which made a deep impression on their 
loyal hearts, and excited them to use their utmost 
endeavours by several ways and means to procure 
the Noah's ark, which might at last secure his ma- 
jesty from the great inundation of rebellion and 
treason which then did overspread the face of his 
whole dominions. 

But to return to my humble observance of his 
majesty at Hele, where Mrs Hyde was so trans- 
ported with joy and loyalty towards him, that at 
supper, though his majesty was set at the lower end 
of the table, yet the good gentlewoman had much 
adoe to overcome herself, and not to carve to him 
first ; however she could not refrain from drinking 
to him in a glass of wine, and giving him two larks, 
when others had but one. 


After supper, Mr Frederick Hyde (brother-in- 
law to the widow, who was then at Hcle, and since 
created serjeant-at-law) discoursed with his majesty 
upon various subjects, not suspecting who he was, 
but wondered to receive such rational discourse from 
a person whose habit spoke Mm but of mean degree ; 
and when his majesty was brought to his chamber, 
Dr Henchman attended him there, and bad a long 
and private communication with him. 

Nest day it was thought fit, to prevent the 
danger of any discovery, or even suspicion in the 
house, that in regard his majesty might possibly 
stay there some days before the conveniency of a 
transportation could be found out, he should that 
day publickly take his leave, and ride about two 
miles from the house, and then be privately brought 
in again the same evening, when all the servants 
were at supper ; which was accordingly perfonned, 
and after that time his majesty appeared no more 
at Hele in publick, but had meat brought him pri- 
vately to liis chamber, and was attended by the good 
widow with much care and observance. 

Now among the many faithful solicitors for this 
long-expected bark. Colonel Gunter happened to be 
the lucky man who first procured it at Brighthemston, 
in Sussex, by the assistance of Mr Francis Mansel, 
merchant of Chichester, and the concurrent endea- 
vours of Mr Tho8. Gunter ; and on Saturday night. 


the 11th of October, he brought the happy tidings 
to my Lord Wilmot and Colonel Philips, who then 
lay, the one at Mr Laurence Hyde's, the other at 
Mr Anthony Brown's house, his neighbour and 

The next morning, being Sunday, Colonel Philips 
was dispatched to Hele with the much-desired news^ 
and with instructions to attend his majesty on Mun- 
day to the Downs, called Old Winchester, near 

Early in the morning his majesty was privately 
conveyed from Hele, and went on foot at least two 
miles to Clarendon Park Corner, attended by Dr 
Henchman, then took horse with Colonel Philips ; 
and at the appointed time and place, the Lord 
Wilmot, Colonel Gunter, and Mr Thomas Gunter, 
met his majesty, with a brace of greyhounds, the 
better to carry on the disguise. 

That night, though both Mr Laurence Hyde and 
Mr.Henslow had each of them provided a secure 
lodging for his majesty, by the Lord Wilmot's order, 
yet it was judged fittest by Colonel Gunter, and 
accordingly agreed unto by my lord, that his ma- 
jesty should lodge at Mr Thomas Symons's house at 
Hambledon, in Hampshire, who married the colonel's 
sister, in regard the colonel knew them to be very 
faithful, but chiefly because it lay more directly in 
the way from Hele to Brighthemston ; and accord- 


ingly Colonel Gimter atteaded his majesty to bi8 
sister's houae that night, who provided a good 
RUpper for them, though she had not the least sus- 
picion or intimatiuo of his majesty's presence among 

The king and bis small retinue at'riviug in safety 
at Mrs Symons's house ou Munday night the 13th 
of October, were heartily welcomed by Mrs Symone, 
for her husband was not then at home ; but by 
that time they had sup'd, in comes Mr Symons, who 
wundwring to see so many strangers in hia house, was 
assured by his brother Gunter that they were aU 
honest gentlemen ; yet, at first interview, he much 
suspected llr Jackson to be a roundhead, obseiTing 
how little hair William Penderel's seissers had left 
hini ; but at last being fully satisfied they were aU 
cavaliers, he soon laid open his heart, and thought 
nothing too good for them, was sorry his beer was 
no stronger, and, to encourage it, fetched down a 
bottle of strong water, and, miviiig it with the beer, 
drank a cheerful eup to Mr Jackson, calling him 
"brother roundhead," whom his majesty pledged ; 
who was here observed to be cloathed in a short 
juppa of a sad-coloared cloth, and his breeches of 
another species, with a black hat, and without 
cuffs, somewhat like the meaner sort of country 

Mr Symons, in the time of entertaining liis 


guests, did by chance let fall an oath, for which 
Mr Jackson took occasion modestly to reprove 

His majesty, thus resting himself Munday night 
at Hambledon, early on Tuesday morning (October 
the 14th) prepared for his journey to Brighthemston, 
distant about thirty-five miles from thence. But 
(having then no further use for Colonel Philips) 
dismissed him with thanks for his fidelity and 
service, in this most secret and important affair; 
and then, having also bidden farewel to Mr Symons 
and his wife, took horse, attended by my Lord Wil- 
mot and his man. Colonel Gunter, and Mr Thomas 

When they came near the Lord Lumley's house 
at Sanstead, in Sussex, it was considered that the 
greatness of the number of horse might possibly 
raise some suspicion of them : Mr Thomas Gunter 

* ** Fyc, Sir, that is an escape ! " said Charles, who, according 
to Gunter, seems to have had some difficulty in avoiding intoxi- 
cation from the convivial im2)ortunities of his host, and to have 
only escaped by taking advantage of his looking another way to 
hand his glass to the others. Mr Symons appears to have been 
well pleased at last to get " the roundhead " off to bed, in order 
to enjoy his bottle with his brother-in-law, freed from the re- 
straint of his presence. Wilmot and Gunter afterwards con- 
tinued drinking with him to a late hour, while Philips attended 
the king in his chamber. The colonel gives Charles great credit 
for the way in which he sustained the chamcter of a piuitan. 



*a3 therefore dismissed with thanks for the service 
he had done, and his majesty held on his journey 
without any stay ; and beiag come to Bramber, 
within seven miles of the desired port, met there 
some of Colonel Herbert Morley'a soldiers, who yet 
did neither examine, nor had they, as far as could 
be discerned, the least suspicion of the royal pas- 
sengers, who arrived at last at the George inn in 
Brighthemston, where Mr Francis Hansel, who 
assisted Colonel Gunter in this hapjiy service, had 
agreed to meet him. 

At supper Mr Mansel sate at the upper end of the 
table, and Mr Jackson (for that name his majesty 
still retained) at the lower end. The innkeeper's 
name was Smith, and had formerly been related to the 
court, so that he suspected Mr Jackson to be whom 
he reaUy was ; which his majesty understanding, 
he discoursed with his boast after supper, wherel^y 
his loyalty was confirmed, and the man proved 

The next morning, being "Wednesday, October the 
15th (the same day on which the noble Earl of 
Berby became a royal martyr at Boulton), his 
majesty, having given particular thanks to Colonel 
Gunter for his great caie, pains, and fideUty to- 
wards him, took shipping with the Lord Wilmot in 
the bark which lay in readiness for him at that 
harbour, and whereof Mr Nicholas Tetersal was 


owner ; and the next day, with an auspicious gale 
of wind, landed safely at Fecam, near Havre de 
Grace, in Normandy; where his majesty might 
happily say with David, "Thou has delivered me 
from the violent man ; therefore will I sing praises 
to thy name, Lord." 

This very bark, after his majesty's happy re- 
stauration, was by Captain Tetersal brought into 
the river Thames, and lay some months at anchor 
before Whitehall, to renew the memory of the happy 
service it had performed. 

His majesty, having nobly rewarded Captain 
Tetersal in gold for his transportation, lodged this 
night at an inn in Fecam, and the next day rode to 
Roan, still attended by the faithful Lord Wilmot, 
where he continued incognito several days at Mr 
Scot's house, since created baronet, till he had sent 
an express to the queen, his royal mother, who had 
been long solicitous to hear of his safety, and the 
court of France, intimating his safe arrival there, 
and had quitted his disguised habit for one more 
befitting the dignity of so great a king. 

Upon the first intelligence of this w^elcome news, 
his highness the Duke of York sent his coach forth- 
with to attend his majesty at Roan, and the Lord 
Gerard, with others his majesty's servants, made all 
possible haste, with glad hearts, to perform their 
duty to him ; so that on the 29th of October his 

majesty set forward towarda Paris, lay that night at 
Fleiiry, almut seven leagues from Eoan ; the next 
morning Lis royal brother, the Duke of York, was 
ready to receive him at Magnie, and that evening 
his majesty was met at Mouceaus, a village near 
Paris, by the Queen of England, accomiianied with 
her brother, the Duke of Orleans, and attended by 
a great number of coaches, and many both English 
and French lords and gentlemen on horseback, and 
was thus gladly conducted the same night, though 
somewhat late, to the Lou\Te at Paris, to the in- 
expressible joy of his dear mother the queen, his 
royal brother the Duke of York, and of all true 

Here we must again, with greater reason, humbly 
contemplate -the admirable providence of Almighty 
God, which certainly never appeared more miracu- 
lously than in this strange deliverance of his majesty 
from such an infinity of dangers, that history itself 
cannot produce a pai-aUel, nor will posterity will- 
ingly believe it. 

Prom the 3d of September at Worcester, to the 
15th of October at Brithemston, being one and forty 
days, he passed through more dangers than he 
travelled miles, of which yet he traversed in that time 
only near three hundred (not to speak of his dangers 
at eea, both at his coming into Scotland, and hLi 
going out of England, nor of hia long march from 


Scotland to Worcester), sometimes on foot with im- 
easy slioes ; at otlier times on horseback, encumber- 
ed with a portmanteau ; and which was worse, at 
another time on the gall-backed, slow-paced miller's 
horse ; sometime acting one disguise in coarse linnen 
and a leather doublet, sometimes another of almost 
as bad a complection ; one day he is forced to sculk 
in a barn at Madeley, another day sits with Colonel 
Carlos in a tree, with his feet extreamly galled, and 
at night glad to lodge with William Penderel in a 
secret place at Boscobel, which never was intended 
for the dormitory of a king. 

Sometimes he was forced to shift with coarse fare 
for a bellyful ; another time in a wood, glad to relieve 
the necessities of nature with a mess of milk, served 
up in an homely dish by good- wife Yates, a poor 
country woman ; then again, for a variety of tribula- 
tion, when he thought himself almost out of danger, 
he directly meets some of those rebels who so greedily 
sought his blood, yet, by God s great providence, had 
not the power to discover him ; and (which is more 
than has yet been mentioned) he sent at another 
time to some subjects for relief and assistance in 
his great necessity, who out of a pusillanimous fear 
of the bloody arch -rebel then reigning durst not 
own him. 

Besides all this 'twas not the least of his afflictions 
daily to hear the Earl of Derl)y, and other his loyal 


subjects, some murdered, some imprisoned, and others 
sequestered in heaps, by the same bloody usurper, 
only for performing their duty to their lawful king. 
In a word, there was no kind of misery (but death 
itself) of which his majesty, in this horrible persecu- 
tion, did not in some measure, both in body, mind, 
and estate, bear a very great share ; yet such was 
his invincible patience in this time of tryal, such 
his fortitude, that he overcame them all with such 
pious advantage to himself, that their memory is now 
sweet, and " it was good for him that he had been 

Of these his majesty's suflferings and forced exter- 
mination from his own dominions, England's great 
chancelor* thus excellently descants : 

" We may tell those desperate wretches, who yet 
harbour in their thoughts wicked designs against the 
sacred person of the king, in order to the compassing 
their own imaginations, that God Almighty would not 
have led him through so many wildernesses of afflic- 
tions of all kinds, conducted him through so many 
perUs by sea, and perils by land, snatched him out 
of the midst of this kingdom when it was not worthy 
of him, and when the hands of his enemies were even 
upon him, when they thought themselves so sure of 
him, that they would bid so cheap and so vile a 

* Edward, Earl of Clarendon. See p. 291 of the Appendix 
to his lordship's " History of the Grand Rebellion." 


price for him. He would not in that article have so 
covered him with a cloud, that he travelled even 
with some pleasure and great observation through 
the midst of his enemies : He would not so wonder- 
fully have new modelled that army; so inspured their 
hearts, and the hearts of the whole nation, with an 
honest and impatient longing for the return of their 
dear sovereign, and in the mean time have exercised 
him (which had little less of providence in it than the 
other) with those unnatural, or at least unusual, dis- 
respects and reproaches abroad, that he might have 
a harmless and an innocent appetite to his own 
country, and return to hia own people, with a fiiU 
value, and the whole im wasted bulk of his affections, 
without being corrupted or byassed by extraordi- 
nary foreign obligations : God Almighty would not 
have done all this but for a servant whom he will 
always preserve as the apple of his own eye, and 
always defend from the most secret machinations of 
his enemies." 

Thus the best and happiest of orators. 

Some may haply here expect I should have con- 
tinued the particulars of this history to the time of his 
majesty's happy rest aurat ion, by giving an account of 
the reception his majesty found from the several 
princes beyond the seas, during his exile, and of his 
evenness of mind and prudent deportment towards 


them upon all occasions : but that was clearly 
beyond the scope of my intention, which aimed only 
to write the wonderful history of a great and good 
king, violently pursued in his own dominions by the 
worst of rebels, and miraculously preserved, under 
God, by the best of subjects. 

In other countries, of which his majesty traversed 
not a few, he found kindness and a just compassion 
of his adversity from many, and from some a neglect 
and disregard ; yet, in all the almost nine years 
abroad, I have not heard of any passage that 
approached the degree of a miracle like that at 
home ; therefore I may, with faith to my own in- 
tentions, not improperly make a sUent transition 
from his majesty's arrival at Paris, on the 13th day 
of October 1651, to his return to London on the 
29th of May 1660; and, with a Te Deum laud- 
amus, sum up aU, and say with the prophet : " My 
lord the king has come again in peace to his own 
house."* "And all the people shouted, and said, 
God save the king !"t 

♦ 2 Sam. xix. 30. t 1 Sam. xx. 24. 


King Charles the Second comeing from Worcester 
fight, being Wednesday, Sept. 3, 1651, about sun 
rising next morning, being Thursday, by the con- 
duct of Mr Charles Giflfard and his man Yates, 
arrived at White Ladyes, where, as soon as might 
bee, he was divested of his apparell, his hayr cut oflF, 
and habited like a country fellow ; which being done, 
haveing taken leave of the lords who attended him, 
was committed to the charge of the Pendrells. The 
lords, &c. then most of them fled after the flying 
armye towards Newport, and so northwards. The 
Lord Willmot was resolved to fly counter towards 
London, and by the guidance of John Pendrell gott 
to Mr Huntbaches of Brinsford, from whence he sent 
the said Pendrell to Wolverhampton and all his 
acquaintance thereabouts, to gett some azilum for 
him ; but not prevayling, as he was returning back, 
hee met with Mr Huddleston (whom he had seen 
formerly at White Ladyes), with young Sir John 
Preston, to whose custody he was committed by Mrs 
Morgan of Weston, grandmother to him, and sent to 


my mother's to table, for fear Pym should seize him 
going there, by the name of Jackson ; for whose 
companions Mr Huddleston was pleased to admitt 
Mr Francis Eaynolds and Mr Tho. Palin, both 
nephews of mine, and to teach them with him, and 
asked him what news he heard, who answered. None 
but very good ; which was, the king had gott the 
day at Worcester. But Pendrell answeared, Tis 
clean contrarie ; and then related to him the sad 
news of his majesties defeat att Worcester the day 
before ; and how that morning earlie, the king came 
to White Ladyes, and was with some of his brothers 
in disguise, and that my Lord of Cleveland ; but 
indeed Willmott hee left att the said Huntbaches^ 
and was by him sent to Hampton, and to all his 
acquaintance thereabout, to gett some secrett place 
to secure him, which not being able to do, he asked 
Mr Huddleston whether his landlord, being myself, 
would do him the favour to secure him ; who replyed, 
I will take you to him, and you shall see ; upon 
their arrivall, Mr Huddleston told me all tlie sad 
news, and his buisiness with me, whereupon I said 
I would with speed wait on his lordship, which I 
did accordingly ; and w^hen there, Mr Huntbach 
brought mee to his chamber, whom, after I had con- 
doled his majesties and all his friends sad misfortunes, 
I told him I feared not to secure his lordship if I 
could gett privately to my house, which I thought 


the best way was for mee to wish Mr HuntbacH to 
bring him a by-way to a close of mine, called the 
Moore, about midnight, whereatt thatt tyme I would 
wait for him, and take him to a fiiend's house not 
far of, wheare I feard not his securitie (to conceal 
from Mr Huntbach my taking him home), where 
accordingly I wayted for their comeing 2 or 3 
howers ; and then supposing they had ateared some 
other course, I returned home, where I found my 
Lord Willmott arrived, being conducted by the said 
Huntbach another way along the publick ways and 
lanes, which when my lord underHtood, he wiia mucli 
troubled. The next morning I sent a messenger 
well known to Colonel Lane to acquaint him tliat 
my lord was with mee ; but I had no couveniency for 
his horses, my howse lying to the open roade and an 
howse over against itt, and therefore I desired him 
to entertain them (they being that night all att one 
Evans' house, a poor man, nigh Mr Huntbach), my- 
self being better able to secure my lord than them, 
who seemed very willing, and bidd the messenger 
bring them, and that att night he would himself 
wait on his loi'dship, and that I should about mid- 
night expect his comeing into a close called AUport's 
Leasow, wherein was a great drie pitt, covered with 
many trees, where tlie colonel accordingly came ; 
and having tied his horse in the said pitt, I brought 
him through my backside to my lord's chamlwr, who 


when they saw each other, they renewed their 
former acquaintance, the colonel fonnerly having 
served in my lord's brigade. The colonel then invited 
my lord to his house as far more safe, myself, as hee 
stiled mee a papist, and more liable to searches; 
besides, his sister the Lady Jane had newlie gott a 
pass from Captain Stone, governor of Stafford, for 
herself and a man to go into the west, which might 
be a convenient of^rtunity for his passage away. 
But the day before, I haveing shown his lordship a 
privacie in my house, formerly made in tymes of 
persecution, and in which, after the late unfortunate 
warre, I secured myself against the violent strict 
search of Captain Stone's troop, his lordship so 
approved of itt for his securitie, that he wisht 
100,000 friends of his were with him ; gave the 
colonel many thanks for his kind offer, but for the 
present said hee was well pleased and satisfied with 
his present quarters, but desired him to keep the 
opportunity of his sister's pass, and his horses, till he 
heard from him again, and so took leave of him, and I 
conducted back to his horses. This morning being 
Friday, Jo. Pendrell came to my lord, and staid all 
day with him, who att night sent him to White 
Ladyes, to enquire what was become of the king ; 
who returned, and said he went from thence the 
night before to Madeley in Shropshire, with a design 
to gett over Severn, and so to steer for Wales (but 


Severn was so guarded he coukl not pass, but was 
fofct to stay there all that oight and uext day • in 
a bam of Mr Wooif a) ; of whose removal, as soon as 
my lord heard, he resolved speedily to remove to 
Colonel Lane's, and wisht mee to send to him to 
have his horses sent for him that night, which I did, 
and they came accordingly ; and so, after many 
thanks for all my care and kind entertainment, 
haveijjg dismissed Jo, Pendrell, hee went, and safelie 
arrived at the colonel's the next morning. Mr 
Huddleston and myself were walking in the long 
walk, and concluding in the afternoon to go to White 
Ladyes to receave a perfect relation of aU the trans- 
actions there, where unexpectedly wee saw Jo. 
Pendrell comeing to us and asking us where my lord 
was ; wee teUing him he was gone from hence, hee 
replyed. Wee then are all undone, for att my return 
yesterday, there being no passage over Severn, the 
king was forct on Friday night to come back to 
BoBcobell, and there mett with Colonel Carelos, and 
that they had no entertainment for bim, neither 
knew they how to dispose of him, who grew very 
melancholly upon itt : but hearing by mee that 
1 left my lord here, hee sent mee to his lordship 
to gett a place for his security with him hure.t 
Whereupon Mr Hnddleston and myself went with 

• Satiiiiiay^Suudaj. 

f Sunday. 


Pendrell to the colonel, hee being a stranger to him, 
and we durst not write by him ; where I being 
arrived, acquainted the colonel that Pendrell came 
to us from some person of eminent qualitie, whose 
name he was not to discover, to bring him to my 
lord ; and therefore I came with him myself^ that 
hee should not be afraid to give admittance, where- 
upon the colonel immediatlie took him to my lord, 
who, after some private conference and directions for 
Mr Huddleston and myself, hee sent him to us, to 
return with speed, and in the way homewards to 
acquaint us the person hee came from was the king, 
which his lordship till then never discovered ; and 
that hee desired myself to attend his comeing that 
night, about an eleaven of clock, att his usuall pitt in 
Alport's Leasow ; and that Mr Huddleston and self 
should appoint a place in my ground, whether he 
and his brothers should bring the king, about twelve 
or one of clock that night, which we accordingly did 
and Pendrell speedily sent away to acquaint his 
majestie. Att night, Mr Huddleston and self, as 
soon as all the familie was gone to bedd, v/ent to our 
severall stands, hee to a close called the Moore, and 
myself to the usual drie pitt. My lord came punctu- 
ally according to his howre, whom I brought up to 
his chamber, and after the time prefixed, hee wisht 
me to go to Mr Huddleston, to see if they were come 
with his friend, as hee called him ; but I returning 


and telling him they were not. liee seemed much 
troubled and apprehensive of his miscarriage ; then 
after a little wliUe he wiaht mee to go again, and to 
stay in the orchard expecting them, where, after a 
while, I saw them comeing up the long walke, which 
I speedily acquainted his lordship with, who wished 
mee to stay att the orchard door, and to show him 
the way to the stayrs, where my lord expected him 
with a light. When hee came to the door with the 
Pendrells guarding him, he was so habitted like one 
of them, that 1 could not tell which was hee, only I 
knew all the rest ; I could scarce putt off my hatt to 
him, but hee discovering by the light the stayrs, 
ymediatlie went to them, where hia lordship expected 
him, and took him up to his chamber ; then I took 
the Pendrells into the buttiy to eate and drink, that 
I might dispatch them away, and secure the house ; 
but 'ere they had done, my lord sent Mr Huddleston 
down to mee, desireing mee to come up, which 
accordingly I did, and comeing att the chamber 
door, his majestie and my lord being both at a 
cupboard's head nigh to itt, talking, his lordship 
said to mee. This gentleman under disguise, whom I 
have hitherto concealed, is both your maister, mine, 
and the maister of us all, to whom wee all owe our 
duty and allegiance ; and so, kneeling down, he gave 
me his hand to kiss, and bidd me arise, and said he 
had receaved from my lord such a character of my 

296 MR whitgreave's narrative. 

loyaltie and readines in those dangers to assist him 
and his friends, that hee would never bee unmindful 
of me or mine ; and the next word after was, where 
is the private place my lord tells me of ? which being 
ahready prepared and showed him, hee went into itt, 
and when come forth, said it was the best place hee 
was ever in. Then hee returning to his chamber, 
sitting down by the fire side, wee pulled oflf his shoes 
and stockings, and washed his feet, which were most 
sadly galled, and then pulled off likewise his appareU 
and shirt, which was of burden cloth, and put him one 
of Mr Huddleston^ and other apparell of ours ; then 
after he had refreshed himself a little by eating some 
biskett, and drinking a glass of wine, he grew very 
chearful, and said, if it would please Almighty God 
to send him once more an army of 10,000 good and 
loyall soldiers and subjects, he feared not to expell 
all those rogues forth of his kingdom : then after 
an howre's discourse, or more, he was desirous to re- 
pose himself on a bedd that night.* The next day, the 
servants were sent all forth to work, only the cook 
maid, a Catholike, kept within to get provisions, as 
pretended, for a relation of Mr Huddleston's, who fled 
to him from Worcester fight, neither she, nor Mr 
Huddleston s schoUars admitted to his sight, nor 
ha^dng the least suspect who hee was, the boys hav- 

* Sunday night. 



ing, during his stay, liberty to play, and to watch who 
were comeing, whereupon Sir Jo. Preston one night 

att supper with the other boys said, Eate hard boys, 
for wee have been on the life-guard and hard duty 
this day* (more trulie spoken than hee was aware). 
In the morning my lord took my mother to his 
majeatie, and acquainted him who shee was, who 
kneeUng down to kiss hand, he most gratiously 
saluted, and when she had brought up dinner, would 
have had her aitt down with him, Mr Huddleston 
and myself wayting. In the afternoon I was sent 
to Hampton, to enquire after news, and at my return 
wisht by my lord to send for his horses that night 
from Colonel Lane's, which I did accordingly, and he 
returned with them. All that night his majestie 
lay on his bed, Mr Huddleston watching within, and 
myself without dooi-s. The next morning + my 
studie door being open, his majestie was pleased, 
with Mr Huddleston and self to go into itt, and for 
diversion to look forth of it into the court and 
common roade, where he saw many of Ms soldiers, 
and some of his own regiment, which he knew, come 
up to the deal's, some for provisions, and others for 
plaisters for their wounds. There he told us of 
the Scotts usage, and of his march from thence to 
Worcester, and of the fight there, and enquired of us 

^ Tuesday. 

298 MR whitgreave's narrativk 

how this country and the gentry stood aflfected, and 
who were against him : then, looking upon severall 
books, he saw Mr Turbervill's Catechisme, and read 
a little of itt, said itt was a pretty book, and that 
hee would take itt with him. In the afternoon, 
reposing himself on his bed in the parlour chamber, 
and inclineing to sleep, as I was watching at the 
window, one of the neighbours I saw come running 
in, who told the maid soldiers were comeing to 
search, who, thereupon, presentlie came running to 
the staires head, and cried. Soldiers, soldiers are come- 
ing ; which his majestie hearing, presentUe started 
out of his bedd and run to his privacie, where I secur- 
ed him the best I could, and then leaving him, went 
forth into the street to meet the soldiers who were 
comeing to search, who as soon as they saw, and 
knew who I was, were readie to pull mee in pieces, and 
take me away with them, sapng I was come from the 
Worcester fight ; but after much dispute with them, 
and by the neighbours being informed of their false 
information, that I was not there, being very ill a great 
while, they let mee goe ; but till I saw them clearly 
all gone forth of the town, I returned not ; but as 
soon as they were, I returned to release him, and 
did acquaint him with my stay, which hee thought 
long, and then hee began to bee very chearful again. 
In the interim, whilst I was disputing with soldiers, 
one of them called Southall came in the fibuld, and 


asketl a smith, as hee was shooing horses there, if he 
could tell where the king was, and he should have a 
thousand pounds for his payns, as the smith called 
Holbeard since severall times hath told mee and 
otliers. This Southall was the great priest-catcher, 
and Captain Lane's and Mr Vernon's true cavalier 
in the plotting time. That afternoon my loi-d sent 
word he would send Colonel Lane with an horse for 
the king about midnight,* and that I must expect 
him att the usuall place. At night, his majestie 
wisht Mr Huddleston to show him our oratory, 
saying hee knew hee was a priest, and hee needed 
not fear to own itt to him, for if it pleased God to 
restore him to his kingdom, we should never need 
more privacies ; who having seen itt, said itt was a 
very decent place. Afterwards I went to the colonel, 
and took a nephew, Mr Fra, Eeynolds, with mee, to 
hold the horses whilst the colonel went up to the 
house with me, who arriving, I brought him to the 
orchard stUe, where he would stay and expect tdl we 
brought his majestic to him ; of whicli, I acquaint- 
ing his majestie, he sent mee for my mother to 
come to take leave of him ; who, bringing with her 
some raysings, almonds, and other sweet meats, 
which shee presenting to him, some whereof hee was 
pleased to eat, and some took with him ; afterwards, 

* Tuesday. 


wee all kneeling down, and praying Almighty God 
to bless, prosper, and preserve him, hee was pleased 
to salute my mother, and give her thanks for his 
kind entertainment, and then giving his hand to 
Mr Huddleston and myself to kiss, saying if itt 
pleased God to restore him, hee would never be 
unmindful of us, hee took leave and went, conducted 
with Mr Huddleston and self to the colonel, and 
thence to his horses expecting him, where, he having 
gott on horseback, wee kneeled, and kiss his hand 
again, offering all our prayers for his saftie and pre- 
servation, Mr Huddleston putting on him a cloak of 
his to keep him from cold and wett, which, after- 
wards, by the colonel's order, was sent to mee, wee 
took leave. 






Right Honourable, 

Humbly conceiving that a compleat and 
perfect narration of the many and great dangers, 
and the as many and signal deliverances which his 
sacred majesty met withal after that fatal rout 
at Worcester, imtil his majesty's happy arrival 
at the port of safety which Almighty God, his 
gracious and merciful preserver, had designed for 
him, cannot but be very acceptable to all good 
Christians and loyal hearts, as being a work so 
much conducing to the glory of God, and the 
honour and renown of our most dread sovereign, 

♦ Note in the Oxford edition : — In the History of the Rebel- 
lion the name is written Ellison. It is thought fit to place this 
letter here, though it appears by the superscription to have been 
written after the Restoration. 


and withal observing too great a defectiveness in 
those narratives on the subject that I have hitherto 
seen, as to some of those eminent deliverances which 
God was pleased iperciftdly to vouchsafe his majesty 
in the west ; to the intent that, if God shall stir up 
the heart of any learned and able historian to give 
a full and true account of those remarkable passages 
of Providence to the world, I may contribute my 
mite to such a noble and desirable undertaking ; 
I have now (upon presumption of your lordship's 
favourable acceptance) taken upon me the boldness 
to present unto your lordship a brief account of 
those memorable passages in this kind, which my- 
self (as having been agent in them) had the honour 
and the happiness to be acquainted with ; the which 
your lordship may be pleased to take as foUoweth. 

After that his majesty was disappointed of his 
hopes of embarking at Bristol (of which your lord- 
ship may inform yourself in that account which a 
person of quality hath given the world, in his 
book stiled The History of his Sacred Majesty 
Charles the Second, printed at London, anno 1660, 
page 125), his majesty desired to be brought some 
miles westward, to the house of a worthy gentle- 
man, whom he knew to be a trusty friend ; and 
accordingly, his majesty being conveyed to the 
house of Colonel Francis Wyndham of Trent, in 
Somerset, advice was had about preparation of a 


passage for his majesty in some western port. In 
prosecution of which, myself being looked upon as 
person that might be confided in, and in a capacity 
of serving his majesty in order to his transportation 
(having not long before been instrumental in getting 
safe passage for Sir John, now Lord Berkeley), upon 
or about the 18th of September 1651, the aforesaid 
honourable and truly loyal gentleman, Colonel 
Francis Wyndham, came to me at my house at 
Lyme (where I then lived, looking upon it as some 
protection to me in those times to live in that 
town), when, after some other discourse had, and an 
engagement to aecresy passed betwixt us, be told me 
that the king had sent him to me, commanding me 
to procure him a vessel in order to his transportation 
into some part of France. 

Being overjoyed to hear that my sovereign was ao 
near me (as the colonel had informed me he was), 
and even ravished with content that an opportunity 
of expressing the loyalty of my heart to his most 
excellent majesty, so unexpectedly presented itself, 
I answered that I would with the utmost hazard of 
my person, and whatsoever else was dear unto me 
(as knowing myself by all obligations, both sacred 
and civil, thereunto obhged), strenuously endeavour 
the execution of his majesty's both just and reason- 
able commands in this particular ; being verily per- 
suaded, that either God would preserve me from, or 

304 MB elledson's letteb 

else support me in and under any sufferings for so 
good a cause. Accordingly, I immediately sent one to 
the custom-house to make enquiry who had entered 
his vessel as bound for France. News was brought 
me that one S. L. of Charmouth had lately entered 
his bark, and intended a speedy voyage for St Malo. 

Not only myself, but also Colonel Wyndham was 
much affected with these tidings ; I having told him 
that I had an interest in the master (he being my 
tenant), and that he had ever the repute of being 
well affected to his majesty. Upon these encourage- 
ments, we (resolving to lose no time) rode to Char- 
mouth by the seaside, to confer with the master, 
which way I the rather made choice of, that in our 
passage there I might show the colonel what place 
I judged most convenient for his majesty to take 
boat in (in case we could work the master to a 
compliance), in order to his embarking; and, indeed, 
a more commodious place for such a design could 
hardly be found, it lying upon the shore a quarter 
of a mile from any house, and from any horse or 
footpath. The colonel being fully satisfied of the 
conveniency of the place, we rode into the town, 
and immediately sent for the master, who being 
very happily at home, presently repaired to us at 
the inn. 

Friendly salutations and some endearing com- 
pliments being premised (and a name that was not 


Lis own being hj me, in the hearing of tlie master, 
given to the colonel, iu the way of disguise), I told 
him that the end of our sending for him was to 
procure passage for a friend of mine and this gentle- 
man's, who liad a finger in the pye at Worcester. 
The man being startled at this proposition (aa 
apprehending more than ordinary danger in such 
an undertaking), we were necessitated to use many 
arguments for the removal of his fears, which we so 
happily managed, that in a little time we gaw the 
effect of them by his cheaiful uudertakiug the busi- 
ness. "Wherefore, an ample reward being engaged 
for on our part, he promised speedily to prepare his 
vessel, and hale her out of the cob the Monday 
following, and about midnight to send his boat to 
the place appointed for the taking in of the pas- 
senger, and then immediately to put off to sea (in 
case the winds were favourable). Thus far we were 
agreed ; and in all our discourse, there was no 
enquiry made by the master, nor any the least in- 
timation given by us, who this passenger might be, 
whose quality we purposely concealed, lest the hopes 
of gaining £1000 (the promised reward of the 
highest treason) might prove a temptation too 
strong for the master to grapple with. 

Having thus far successfully proceeded in our 
business, we returned to Lyme, And the next day 
(being Friday), Colonel "Wyndham resolved upon 


returning to his house at Trent with these hopeful 
tidings to his majesty. I bore him company part 
of his journey, and chose the land road from Lyme 
to Charmouth, that upon the top of a hill, situate 
in our way betwixt these two towns, upon a second 
view he might be the more perfectly acquainted 
with the way that leads from Charmouth to the 
place appointed for his majesty's taking boat; it 
being judged most convenient, upon several accoimts, 
that the colonel, and not myself should be his 
majest/s conductor thither. Here calling to mind 
that on Monday (the day appointed for his majest/s 
embarking) a fair was to be held at Lyme, and 
withal doubting lest upon that account (through 
the nearness of the place), our inn in Charmouth 
might be filled with other guests, we sent down one 
Harry Peters, then a servant of the colonel's (who 
yet was not with us the day before), with instruc- 
tions, by an earnest of five shillings to secure the 
two best rooms in the inn against his majesty's 
coming ; who told the hostess (to take ofi* suspicion) 
this fair tale : That there was a young man to come 
thither the next Monday, that had stolen a gentle- 
woman to marry her, and (fearing lest they shoidd 
be followed and hindered) that he desired to have 
the house and stables at liberty to depart at what- 
soever hour of the night he should think fittest. 
This message being performed, the rooms made 


Bure of, and the servant returned, I then showed the 
colonel a country house of my fatlier'a, distant both 
from Lyme and Charmouth about a mile and a half, 
which (for the privacy of it) we determined should 
be the place whither his majesty, with the Lord 
Wilmot, who then waited upon him, should repair 
on Monday next, that I might then and there give 
his majesty a farther account of what had passed 
in the interim between myself and the master. 

And now being abundantly satisfied and exhi- 
larated in the review of the happy progress we had 
thus far made, with most affectionate embraces the 
noble colonel and myself parted ; he returning to 
his house to wait upon his majesty, and myself to- 
wards mine, vigorously to prosecute what yet re- 
mained on my part to be done with the master, in 
order to the compleating of this work thus happily 
begun ; in the performance of which, that I might 
approve myself faithful, I the same day, and the 
day following, and also on the Monday after, having 
diligently sought out the master, moved and pressed 
him 80 earnestly to the punctual performance of his 
passed promise, that he seemed discontented at my 
importunity, as betraying in me a suspicion of his 
fidelity. A little to allay his passion, I told him I 
was assured that the gentleman, my friend, would 
be at Charmouth on Monday, and that if he were 
not ready to transport him, it might prove an un- 


doing both to my friend and me. Whereupon, to 
vindicate himself, he told me that he had taken in 
his ballast, that he had victualled himself, and haled 
out his vessel to the cob's mouth, for fear of being 
beneaped, because the tides at that time were at the 

Being weU satisfied with this answer, I left him 
(after that I had given him instructions how to pre- 
vent any jealousies that might arise in the breasts 
of the mariners concerning the persons to be trans- 
ported), and immediately went to the aforesaid 
country house of my father's, whither when I was 
come (and perceived that I was the first comer), 
that I might also erect a blind before the tenant's 
eyes, I demanded of him whither the London carrier 
had passed that day or not ; telling him, withal, 
that I expected two or three friends, who promised 
to meet me there about the time of the carrier's 
passing that way. 

His answer to me was but little to the purpose ; 
but in half an hour after my arrival there, came the 
king, with Mrs Julian Coningsby, a kinswoman of 
the colonel's, who rode behind him, the Lord Wil- 

mot, Colonel Wyndham, and his man Peters, attend- 
ing on him. After their coming in, I took the first 
opportunity to acquaint his majesty with what had 
passed betwixt myself and the master after Colonel 
Wyndham's departure from me. The result of all 


wliich was this, that the master had assured me that 
all things were in a readiness for the intended voyage, 
and that (according to the instructions given him) 
he had possessed the seamen with a belief that one 
of the passengers — viz. my Lord Wilmot — was a 
merchant, by name Mr Payne ; and the other, 
meaning the king, was his servant. That the 
rea.son of Mr Payne's taking ship at Charmonth at 
such an unseasonable hour, and not at Lyme, was 
because that, being a town corporate, he feai'ed an 
arrest, his factor in St Male having broken him in 
hia estate by his unfaithfulness to him ; and that 
therefore he was necessitated with this his servant 
speedily and privately to transport himself to St 
Malo aforesaid, in order to the recovery of such 
goods of his as by liis said factor were detained 
fi:om him ; the sending of wliich goods at several 
times this servant of his could sufficiently testify 
and prove. This I the rather acquainted his majesty 
and the Lord Wdmot with, that after their being 
shipped (the more to coufirm the mariners), they 
might drop some discourses to this efi'ect. 

His majesty having showed his approbation of 
what I had done, was graciously pleased, as a 
testimony of his royal favour (which I have ever 
esteemed as a jewel of greatest worth), to bestow 
upon me a piece of gold, telling me that at present 
he had nothing to bestow upon me but that small 

310 MR ELLESDON's letter 

piece; but that, if it ever should please God to 
restore him to his kingdoms, he would readily grant 
me whatsoever favour I might in reason petition 
him for. 

Upon this his majesty, attended as is before ex- 
pressed, rode towards Charmouth, commanding me 
to hasten to Lyme, and there to continue my care 
that all things might be performed according to his 
majesty's expectations and the master's promise. 
Accordingly, I made haste home, found out the 
master, acquainted him that my friend was now at 
Charmouth, and that I newly came from him. He 
replied, that he was glad of it, that he would presently 
repair to Charmouth to speak with him, and to tell 
him when he would come ashore for him ; which 
accordingly he did. 

And thus far all things succeeded according to 
our best wishes, both the wind and tide seeming to 
be at strife which of them should most comply with 
our desires. But after all these fair hopes, and 
the great likelihood we had all conceived of his 
majesty's happy transportation, it pleased God 
Almighty, for the clearer manifestation of his in- 
finitely glorious wisdom and powerful goodness in 
his majesty's preservation, suddenly to blast this 
design, and to cast his majesty upon new streights 
and dangers. 

For the master, either through weakness of judg- 



meut, or else in design to prevent a discoverj', had 
utterly forborne to acquaint hia wife with his inten- 
tions to go to Bea, until it was almost time for him 
to go aboard. Whereupon he no sooner called for 
his chest, but his wife asked him why he would go 
to aea having no goods aboard. The master now 
thought himself necessitated to tell her Mr Ellesdon 
had provided him a fraught, which would be much 
more worth to him than if his ship were full loaden 
with goods, he being to transport a gentleman, a 
friend of his. His wife (having been at Lyme fair 
that day, and having heard the proclamation read, 
wherein £1000 was promised as a rewai-d for the 
discovery of the king, and in which the danger of those 
also was represented that should conceal his majesty, 
or any of those that were engaged with him at 
Worcester, and apprehending that this gentleman 
might be one of the party) forthwith locked the 
doors upon him, and, by the help of her two 
daughters, kept him in by force, telling him that 
she and her children woidd not be undone for ever 
a landlord of them all ; and threatened him that, 
if he did but offer to stir out of doors, she would 
instantly go to Lyme, and give information both 
against him and his landlord to Captain Macy, 
who had then the command of a foot company 
there. Here the master showed his wisdom not 
a little by his peaceable behaviour ; for had he 



striven in the least, it is more than probable his 
majesty and his attendants had been suddenly 
seized upon in the inn. 

But I must needs awhile leave the master a 
prisoner in his own house, his wife and daughters 
being now become his keepers, whilst I render an 
account of the actings of Colonel Wyndham, who, 
with his man Peters, at the time appointed, went 
to the place agreed upon to expect the landing of 
the boat ; but no boat coming, after several hours 
waiting (because he saw the tide was spent), he 
resolves upon returning to the inn. In his way 
thither he discovers a man coming towards him, 
dogged at a small distance by two or three women. 
This, indeed, was the master of the vessel, who by 
this time had obtained liberty (yet still imder the 
eyes of his over-jealous keepers) to walk towards 
the seaside, with an intention to make known to 
those that w^aited there for him the sad tidings 
of this unexpected disappointment, together with 
its causes. The colonel (when they met), though 
he conceived it might be the master, yet, being not 
certain of it, and seeing the women at his heels, 
passed him by without enquiring into the non-per- 
formance of his promise. 

Your lordship may easily guess that this frustra- 
tion of hopes was matter of trouble as well as ad- 
miration to his majesty. The issue of it was that 


Peters, very early the Tuesday morning, was sent 
unto me to know the reason of it. He had no 
sooner delivered his message, but astonisbment 
seized on me ; and the foresight of those sad con- 
sequences which I feared might be the fruits of this 
disaster, wrought in me such disquietment of mind, 
that (for the time) I think I scarcely sustained the 
like upon any occasion in all my life before, my 
confidence of his majesty's safe departure adding 
not a little to the weight of that load of sorrow, 
which afterwards lay so heavy upon me. The cause 
I plainly told him I was wholly ignorant of, except 
this were it, that in regard it was fair-day the 
master might not be able effectually to command 
his mariners out of the alehouses to their work, but 
promised speedily to search into it ; and upon after 
enquiry, I found it to be what I have before re- 

But here (because I apprehended that delays 
might prove inauspicious) I presently dismissed 
the messenger with this my humble advice to his 
majesty, that his longer stay in Charmouth might 
endanger his discovery ; which had certainly proved 
the issue of it, had not God, the King of kings, 
graciously, and even miraculously, prevented it. 
For the hostess of the house, little thinking what 
manner of guests the chambers before spoken of had 
been secured for, had at that time admitted to be 


her ostler one of Captain Macy^s soldiers, a notorious 
knave ; who observing and taking notice that the 
colonel and his man went out so late at night to- 
wards the seaside, and that the rest of the company, 
duringtheir absence, were more private than travellers 
are wont to be, and perhaps inspired and prompted 
by the devil, strongly suspected one of these guests 
to be the king, under the disguise of a woman's 
habit, and ceased not once and again to discover his 
jealousies unto his mistress. 

But she (though, from the fellow's words, and 
the consideration of some circumstances which that 
night and some days before had occurred, she had 
some thoughts that it might be so, yet) detesting as 
much to lodge treason in her heart, as she would 
have been proud of entertaining the king in her 
house, very passionately rebuked the ostler for these 
insolencies, hoping l)y that means to put a stop to 
his (as she judged) treasonable projects. 

Yet this her honest design wrought not the in- 
tended effect upon tlie heart of this her treacherous 
servant ; for the same morning, whilst Peters was 
with me at Lyme, he went to speak with the then 
parson of Charmouth, intending to communicate his 
suspicions to him ; but found no opportunity to 
speak with him, he being at that time engaged in 
prayer with his family. 

Another remarkable passage we must of necessity 


here insert, which was this : Jly Lord "Wilmot's 
horse wanting a shoe, in Peters's absence, the ostler 
led him to one Hammet's, a smith, then living in 
Charmouth, who, viewing the remaining shoes, said : 
" This horse hath but three shoes on, and they were 
set in three several counties, and one of them in 
Worcestershire ; " which speech of his fully con- 
firmed the ostler in his former opinion. 

By this time Harry Peters, being returned from 
Lyme, and my Lord Wilmot's horse shod, upon the 
advertisement that was sent him, his majesty im- 
mediately departed towards Bridport, a town east- 
ward of Charmouth, and about five mdes distant 
from it. 

The ostler, now that the birds had taken their 
flight, began to spread his net. For going a second 
time to the parson, he fully discovered his thoughts 
to him, and withal told him what the smith had said 
concerning my Lord Wilmot's horse. The parson 
thereupon hastens to the inn, and salutes the hostess 
in this manner : " Why how now, Margaret ^ you 
are a maid of honour now." " What mean you by 
that, Mr Parson ? " quoth she. Said he, " Why 
Charles Stuart lay last night at your house, and 
kissed you at his departure ; bo that now you can't 
but be a maid of honour." The woman began then 
to be very angry, and told him he was a scurvy- 
couditioned man to go about to bring her and her 


house into trouble. "But/' said she, "if I thought 
it was the king, as you say it was, I would think 
the better of my lips all the days of my life ; and so, 
Mr Parson, get you out of my house, or else 111 get 
those shall kick you out/' I have presented this 
discourse in the interlocutor's own words, by this 
means to make it more pleasant to your lordship. 

But, to return to the main intendment of this my 
narrative, I shall (before we come in our thoughts 
to attend his majesty in his journey eastwards) 
humbly beg of your lordship this favour, that your 
lordship would here be pleased seriously to admire 
with myself the goodness of Almighty God in infa- 
tuating this ostler, and the rest of his majesty's 
enemies in these parts. 

First of all, the parson (being not a little nettled 
at the rude and sharp language the hostess gave 
him), taking Hammet the smith along with him, he 
speedily applied himself to the next justice of the 
peace, to inform him of the forementioned jealousies, 
together with the reasons of them ; and earnestly 
pressed him to raise the county by his warrants, in 
order to Lis majesty's apprehension. But he (as 
God was pleased to order it), thinking it very 
unlikely that the king should be in these parts, not- 
withstanding all the parson's bawling and the strong 
probabilities upon which their conjectures seemed 
to be grounded, utterly rejected his council, fearing 



lest he should make himself ridiculous to all the 
countiy by such an undertaking. 

As for the ostler, his imprudeut managing hia 
mischievous intention discovered itself two ways ; 
first, in liis having recourse to the parson ; whereas, 
with greater likelihood of success, he might have 
taken the advice and assistance of his fellow-soldiers, 
three whereof, being very desperate enemies to his 
majesty, were at that time inhabitants of Char- 
mouth, and his nearest neighbours. In the next 
place, his egi-egious folly was further manifested in 
his delaying to acquaint his captain at Lyme with hia 
suspicions abovenamed imtil twelve of the clock that 
day ; for had it not been for this neglect of his, hia 
majesty's escape would have been (in reason's eye) 
impossible ; his captain, ilaey, having no sooner 
received the report of these surmises, and informa- 
tion on what horses and in what equipage, and 
which way the persons suspected made their depart- 
m-e from Charmouth, but, having (in all likelihood) 
the promised reward of such mischievous diligence 
in hia eye, be instantly resolves to leave no means 
unattempted, that with the least shadow of proba- 
bility might conduce to his majesty's attachment. 

In pursuance of which resolves he presently mounts, 
and setting spurs to his horse, in a full career he 
rides towards Bridport, where, at his arrival, after 
a little enquiry made, he was given to understand 


that some persons, with whom the description he 
had received most exactly suited, had dined at the 
George that day, but not long before his coming 
were departed towards Dorchester. This, therefore, 
was the next place to which he posted (the wings of 
covetousness and ambition more nimbly transport- 
ing his mind than it was possible his horse could 
convey his body) ; which he no sooner entered, but 
(as if he had been to execute some warrant for the 
apprehending the most notorious felon in the king- 
dom, with the utmost haste and diligence imagin- 
able, he searched all the inns and alehouses in the 
town. But God (who had given him no commis- 
sion to violate majesty) was graciously pleased to 
make this furious hunter to overrun the game he 
hunted for. Wherefore dismissing him from creat- 
ing any further trouble to your lordship (whose 
principles, I doubt, rather led him to the height of 
discontent at his supposed loss, than to a Christian 
observance of that divine hand of Providence which 
was so eminently seen in the preservation of that 
royal personage which he intended to make a prey 
of), let us now again return to his majesty : 

Who, in his passage from Charmouth, meeting 
with no interruption in his journey, soon reached 
Bridport ; and turning in at the George, he (to 
the astonishment, doubtless, both of himself and 
his attendants) found himself surrounded by his 


enemies ; there being at that time in the said town 
divers foot companies drawn together, who were 
designed for an expedition against Jersey. But 
being as yet unsuspected (lest he might too late 
bewail the sad eflfects of delay), after a short repast 
(too short, indeed, at any time but this, for so great 
and heroical a prince), his majesty left this town, 
going on the way that leads to Dorchester ; in 
which he had not rode past half a mile, ere by the 
finger of diviue Providence he was directed into a 
narrow lane on the left hand of Dorchester road, by 
which means (though they knew not whither they 
went) they were that evening safely conducted to 
Broadwindsor, a country paiish some six miles north 
of Bridport. 

They very fortunately lighted upon an inn where 
both the inn-holder and his wife were very well 
known to Colonel Wyndham, they having formerly 
been servants unto some of his allies. The colonel 
being confident he had an interest in them, upon the 
account of his former knowledge of them, and the 
relation they sometimes had to some of his kindred, 
persona of no mean quality, requested that he and 
his company might that night be lodged in the most 
convenient rooms for privacy their house woidd 
afford ; telling them, that himself and his brother. 
Colonel BuUeu Reymes (meaning my Lord Wilmot, 
who very much resembled liim), had transgressed 


their limits, the royalists at that time being confined 
within five miles distance from their homes. This 
they readily condescended to ; and thereupon led 
them into the uppermost chambers in their house. 

Yet here the face of danger was again discovered 
imto them ; for they had not been housed much 
above an hour before a company of troopers (to the 
number of forty) came thither, with an intention to 
quarter in this and other houses adjacent ; which 
accident might in all likelihood have proved fatal to 
his majesty (the soldiers everywhere about that time 
being proudly inquisitive into the names, qualities, 
affairs, and businesses of strangers), had not God in 
his infinite mercy incapacitated them for such like 
actings here, by cutting out work of another nature 
for them. For having a woman in their company, 
who not long after their coming thither fell in 
travail, and was delivered of a child, the officers 
and other inhabitants of the said parish, having 
notice thereof, contested so long with them about 
freeing their parish from the burthen of its mainte- 
nance, till sleep and drowsiness had rendered their 
heads unfit for anything but their pillows ; upon 
which, whilst they securely slept, his majesty, to- 
gether with his attendants, arising some hours be- 
fore day, and taking the opportunity of that time 
of silence, retired themselves undiscovered unto 


Where after his majesty had concealed himself 
about a week, he departed thence to one Mrs Hyde's, 
near Salisbury. What afterwards passed, I must 
needs leave to others that had the honour to know 
it, being myself unable to spin the thread of this 
histoiy any longer. 

Thus have I (right honourable), without the least 
violation of truth's chastity, made a brief collection 
of those never-to-be-forgotten miracles of Provi- 
dence, Avrought by the hand of Omnipotency for the 
conservation of his most serene majesty in the midst 
of the many perils he Avas exposed to in the west of 
Dorset, which came within my cognisance, which I 
humbly lay (such as it is) at your lordship's feet, 
being thereunto prompted upon the following 
considerations : First, that I might present your 
honour with some new matter for your meditations, 
having frequently observed your lordship to be 
much delighted both in moving, and also in hear- 
ing, discourses upon this subject. Secondly, that 
your lordship, by recounting in the hearing of 
others these Dei Magnalia, may quicken and excite 
them to a serious minding and due improvement of 
the infinite wisdom, power, and goodness of the 
most high God (the great preserver even of kings), 
manifested in what hath been the subject-matter of 
the precedent narrative. Lastly, that I might leave 
in your honour's hands some monument of my real 


322 MR ELLESDOn's LETTEB, etc. 

gratitude for the many favours your lordship has 
been pleased to confer on me. But it is time 
for me to remember what the poet said to his 
Augustus : 

" In publica commoda peccem^ 
Si longo sermoue morer tua tempora." 

Lest, therefore, I should oflfend through my un- 
seasonable prolixity, having first, with all submis- 
sion, craved your lordship's pardon for this my 
great presumption in tendering to your lordship, 
whom the world justly esteems so absolute a master 
of speech, such a rude and impolished story, I 
shall only beg the honour to subscribe myself. 

My Lord, 

Your Lordship's 

Most humbly devoted Servant, 


An original, endorsed thus by Lord Clm^endon — 

" Mr Ellesdon 8 Relation of the King's Escape from Lyme." 






In umbrd alarum tuarum sperahoy donee transeat iniquitas. 



Tms little book having obtained liberty, after a 
long imprisonment, to walk abroad, prostrates itself 
at your majesty's feet for patronage and protection. 
In it your majesty may behold God's wonderful 
mercy and providence, in keeping and preserving 
our ^ou, sovereign from the Lds of his en^ 
mies, when they so pleased themselves with the 
hopes of seizing his sacred person after the battle of 
Worcester ; as they had invented and prepared new 
ways to afflict his majesty, such as, till then, never 
entered into the hearts of the worst of tyrants before 
them. But it pleased God to frustrate the hopes 
and designs of the king's adversaries, and to restore 
his majesty to his father's throne : which that he 
may long enjoy with your majesty, in health, peace, 
and happiness, is, and shall be, the prayer of 

Your Majesty's 

Most obedient, and 

Most faithful Servant, 





How that, after the battle of Worcester, his sacred 
majesty most wonderfully escaped the hands of his 
bloodthirsty enemies, and (under a disguise, in 
the company of Mrs Jane Lane) safely arrived at 
Abbots - Leigh, in Somersetshire (the seat of Sir 
George Norton, lying near to the city of Bristol), 
hath been fully published unto the world. His 
majesty's journey from thence to the house of 
Colonel Francis Wyndham at Trent, in the same 
county, his stay there, his endeavour (though frus- 
trate) to get over into France, his return to Trent, 
his final departure thence in order to his happy 
transportation, are the subject of this present rela- 
tion. A story, in which the constellations of Provi- 
dence are so refulgent, that their light is sufficient 
to confute all the atheists of the world, and to en- 

328 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

force all persons (whose faculties are not pertina- 
ciously depraved) to acknowledge a watchful eye of 
God from above, looking upon all actions of men 
here below, making even the most wicked subser- 
vient to his just and glorious designs. And indeed, 
whatsoever the ancients fabled of Gyges's ring, by 
which he could render himself invisible ; or the 
poets fancied of their gods, who usually carried 
their chief favourites in the clouds, and, by drawing 
those aerial curtains, did so conceal them, that they 
were heard and seen of none, whilst they both heard 
and saw others, is here most certainly verified ; for 
the Almighty so closely covered the king with the 
wing of his protection, and so clouded the imder- 
standing of his cruel enemies, that the most piercing 
eye of malice could not see, nor the most barbar- 
ously bloody hand oflfer violence to his sacred 
person ; God smiting his pursuers (as once he did 
the Sodomites) with blindness, who with as much 
eao;erncss souo:lit to sacrifice the Lord's anointed to 
their fury, as the other did to prostitute the angels 
to their lusts. 

But before the several particulars of this story 
are laid open, two questions (easily foreseen), which 
Avill be readily asked by every reader, call for an 
answer. The one is, Why this relation, so much 
expected, so much longed for, has been kept up all 
this while from public view ? and the other, How it 



eoracs to pass that it now takes the liberty to walk 
abroad 1 Conceraiag the first it must be known, 
that a narrative of these passages wa'j (by especial 
command from his majesty) written by the colonel's 
own hand, immediately aftei' the king's return into 
England ; which (being presented to his majesty) 
was laid up in his royal cabinet, there to rest for 
some time, it being the king's pleasure (for reasons 
best known to his sacred self) that it should not be 
then published. 

And as his majesty's command to keep it private 
is a satisfactory answer to the first, so his license now 
obtained that it might travel abroad may sufficiently 
resolve the second question. But besides this, many 
prevalent reasons there are which plead for a publi- 
cation, the chief of which are these : that the impla- 
cable enemies of this crown may lie for ever silenced 
and ashamed, who having neither law nor religion 
to patronise their unjust undertakings, constnied a 
bare permission to be a divine approbation of their 
actions, and (taking the Almighty to be such a one 
as themselves) blasphemously entitled God to be the 
author of all their wickedness, But the arm of God, 
stretched out from heaven to the rescue of the king, 
cutting off the clue of their success, even then when 
they thought they had spun up their thread, hatli not 
left them so much as an apron of fig-leaves to cover 
the nakedness of theii- most shameful proceedings. 


The next is, that the truth of his majesty's escape 
(being minced by some, mistaken by others, and not 
fully set forth by any) might appear in its native 
beauty and splendor ; that as every dust of gold is 
gold, and every ray of light is light, so every jot and 
tittle of truth being truth, not one grain of the trea- 
sure, nor one beam of the lustre of tins story might 
be lost or clouded ; it being so rare, so excellent, 
that aged Time, out of all the archives of antiquity, 
can hardly produce a parallel. Singularly admirable 
indeed it is, if we consider the circumstances and 
actors. The colonel (who chiefly designed and 
moved in this great affair) could not have had the 
freedom to have served his majesty, had he had not 
been a prisoner, his very confinement giving him 
both a liberty and protection to act ; for, coming 
home from Weymouth upon his parole, he had the 
opportunity to travel freely, without fear of being 
stopped and taken up : and being newly removed 
from Sherborne to Trent, the jealous eye of Somer- 
setshire potentates had scarce then found him out, 
whose malevolent aspect afterwards seldom suf- 
fered him to live at home, and too often furnished 
his house with very unwelcome guests. Others, 
who contributed their assistance, were persons of 
both sexes, and of very different conditions and 
qualities. And although their endeavours often 
proved successless, though they received discourage- 


raents on one hand, were terrified with threats on 
the other; that a seal of silence should be huprinted 
upon the lips of women, who are become proverbial 
for their garnility ; that faithfulness and constancy 
should guard the hearts of servanta, who are usually 
corrupted with rewards, or affrighted with punish- 
ments ; that neither hope nor fear (most powerful 
passions, heightened by capital animadversions pro- 
claimed against all that shoidd conceal, and large 
remunerations promised to such as should discover 
the king) could work nothing upon any single per- 
son, so as to remove him or her from their respective 
duty, but that all should harmoniously concenter, 
both in the design, and also afterward keep them so 
long close shut up under the lock of seeresy, that 
nothing coidd be discovered by the most exquisite 
art and cunning, till the blessed restauration of his 
majesty to his glorious throne so filled their hearts 
with joy, that it broke open the door of their lips, and 
let theii' tongue loose to tell this miracle to the amazed 
world, would (were not the persona yet alive, and the 
story fresh in memory) rarify it into a romance. 

The reproaches and scandals by which some envious 
persons have sought to diminish and vilify the faith- 
ful services which the colonel, out of the integi'ity 
of his soul, performed unto his majesty, shall not here 
be mentioned ; because by taking up diit to bespat- 
ter him they defile their own hands, and the gun 

332 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

they level at his reputation recoils to the wounding 
of their own. 

These things thus premised, by way of introduction, 
open the gate, through which you may enter, and in 
the ensuing pages (as in several tables) take a fiill 
view of the particulars. 

The disguise his majesty put on secured him from 
the cruelty of his enemies, but could not altogether 
hide him from the prying eyes of his dutiful subjects. 
For in the time of his stay at Leigh, one John Pope 
(then butler to Sir George Norton, but formerly a 
soldier for the king in the west) through all those 
clouds espied the most illustrious person of the king. 
With him his majesty (after he saw himself dis- 
covered) was pleased familiarly to discourse ; and 
speaking of the great suflferings of very many of his 
friends in the western parts (most whereof were 
well known to Poj^e), his majesty enquired if he 
knew Colonel Francis Wyiidham, who (in the time 
of the late wars) was governour of Dunster Castle. 
"Very well, sir," answered Pope. The king then 
demanding what was become of him, Pope replies 
that the colonel had married Mrs Anne Gerard, one 
of the daughters and heiresses of Thomas Gerard, 
Esq. late of Trent, in Somersetshire, and that he had 
newly brought thither his mother (the Lady Wynd- 
ham), his wife, and family, and that he beUeved the 
colonel intended there to reside and live. His ma- 


jesty having received this intelligence concerning the 
colonel, together with an exact information of the 
situation of Trent, sought an opportvmity to speak 
with Mrs Lane (from whom, the better to conceal 
himself, he then kept at a distance), and by means 
of Mr LaaseLs (who accompanied the king in this 
journey) obtaining his desire, his majesty, with much 
contentment, imparted to Mra Lane what Pope had 
infoiTued him concerning Colonel AVyndham and his 
habitation ; telling lier, withal, that if she could bring 
him thither, he should not doubt of Ma safety. 

In this very point of time comes the Lord Henry 
Wilmot (afterwards Earl of Rochester) from Dirham, 
in Gloucestershire (the seat of John Winter, Esq. a 
person of known loyalty and integrity) to Leigh. 
My lord had attended his majesty in his passage 
westward, and on Friday morning (September the 
13th) met accidentally Captain Thomas Abington 
of Dowdswell, in the county of Glocester, at Pinbury 
Park ; and being known by the captain (who had 
served under him in the late wars) was that night 
by him conducted to Mr Winter's, from whom his 
lordship (as he bath often since acknowledged) re- 
ceived great civilities. Mrs Lane presently reveals 
to the Lord Wilmot the king's resolution to remove 
to Trent ; whereupon my lord demanded of Henry 
Rogers (Mr Wintei''3 servant, and his lordship's 
guide from Dirham to Leigh) whether he knew Trent. 

334 THE king's COXCEALMEKT AT TRE!n'. 

He answered that Colonel Wyndham and his master 
had married two sisters, and that he had often waited 
on his master thither. These things so happily con- 
curring, his majesty commanded the Lord Wilmot 
to haste to Trent, and to ascertain the colonel of his 
speedy approach. 

His lordship took leave, and continuing Rogers for 
his guide, with one Robert Swan, arrived at Trent 
the 16th of September. Rogers was sent in forth- 
with to the colonel, to acquaint him that a gentle- 
man, a friend of his, desired the favour of him that 
he would please to step forth and speak with him. 
The colonel enquiring of Rogers whether he knew the 
cenileman or his business, answered no : he under- 
stood nothing at all, but only that he was called by 
the name of Mr Morton. Then, without further dis- 
c^::::^\ the colonel came forth, and found the gentle- 
m.-u: walking near the stable, whom, as soon as he 
Arrrxwhtxi « although it was somewhat dark), he 
>a:,::-a; : v :he tide of mv Lord Wilmot. His lord- 
<c..v >:\:iitvi to wonder that he should be known; 
re: :: v^ ro'tiiing strange, considering the colonel's 
:. cv/jir i.-*:::^i::aince with him, being one of the first 
:>**: ; c^a^a; r.n.ur L:> command in his late majesty's 
<^i:^7.v . \:?c.lo> }::< Lpilship was not in the least 
aI,vc\\v ;\.vy: A hivk on his fist and a lure by his 
v.:,^:.: :*&<;> :Vr a cispiise. This confidence of 

h:> !,.:\i.s:,.: rcyC:v r^ocar aJmirution in the colonel, 


calling to mind the great danger he was in, and whose 
harbinger lie was ; for he advertised the colonel, that 
the ting himself was on his way to Trent, intendiog 
that very night to lotlge at Castle Gary (a town six 
miles thence), hoping by God's assistance to be with 
him about ten of the clock next morning. 

At this joyful news the colonel was transported 
(there having run a report that his majesty was slain 
in the fight at Worcester), and giving God thanks 
for his wonderful mercy, he assiu-ed his lordship, 
" that for his majesty's preservation he would value 
neither hia life, family, nor fortune, and would never 
injure his majesty's confidence of him ; not doubting 
but that God, who had led his majesty through the 
midst of such inexpressible dangers, would deliver 
him from aU those barbarous threats and bloody in- 
tentions of his enemies." With these, and such like 
expressions, the colonel brought the Lord Wilmot 
into his parlour, whei-e he received an exact account 
of his majesty's condition and present affairs. 

Next morning the colonel found it necessary to 
acquaint the Lady Wyndham, his mother, and also 
his own lady, with the particulars the Lord Wilmot 
had over night imparted to him concerning the king. 
The relation he gave them did not (tlirough the 
weakness of their sex) bring upon them any woman- 
ish passion, but sm-prised with joy, they most cheer- 
fully resolve (without the least show of feai-) to 

336 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

hazard all for the safety of the king. And so (beg- 
ging God's blessing upon their sincere endeavours) 
they contrive how his majesty might be brought into 
the house without any suspicion to their family, 
consisting of above twenty persons. Among them, 
therefore, Mrs Julian Coningsby (the Lady Wynd- 
ham's niece), Elianor Withers, Joan Halsenoth, and 
Henry Peters (whose loyalty to the king, and fidelity 
to themselves, they had sufficiently experienced), are 
made privy to their design. Next they consider what 
chambers are fittest for his majesty's reception. Four 
are made choice of ; amongst which the Lady Wynd- 
ham's was counted most convenient for the day time, 
where the servants might wait with more freedom 
upon his majesty ; then a safe place is provided to 
retreat unto in case of search or imminent danger ; 
and, lastly, emploj^nents are designed to remove all 
others out of the way at the instant of liis majesty's 
arrival. All which, after a while, answered their 
desires, even beyond their expectation. 

Between nine and ten the next mornino:, the colonel 
and his lady, w^alking towards the fields adjoining to 
the liouso, espied the king riding before Mrs Lane, 
and Mr Lassels in their company. As soon as his 
majesty came near the colonel, he called to him, 
" Frank, Frank, how^ dost thou do ? '' By which 
gracious pleasance the colonel perceived, that though 
his majesty's habit and countenance were much 


changed, yet his heroick spirit was the same, aud his 
mind immutable. The colonel (to avoid the jealous 
eyes of some neighbours) iustantly conveyed the king 
and Mrs Lane into the Lady Wyndham's chamber, 
where the passions of joy and sorrow did a while 
combat in them who beheld his sacred person ; for 
what loyal eye could look upon so glorious a prince 
thus eclipsed, and not pay unto bim the homage of 
tears 1 But the consideration of his majesty's safety, 
the gracious words of his own mouth confuting the 
sad reports of his untimely death, together with the 
hope of his futxire preservation, soon dried them up. 
In a short time the colonel brought the Lord Wilmot 
to the king, and then the ladies withdrew into the 
parloui', having first agreed to call Mrs Lane cousin, 
and to entertain her with the same familiarity as if 
she had been their near relation. That day she staid 
at Trent, and the next morning early Mr Lassels and 
she departed. 

His majesty, after he had refreshed himself, com- 
manded the colonel, in the presence of the Lord Wil- 
mot, to propose what way he thought most probable 
for his escape into France, for thither he desired with 
all speed to be transported. The colonel (the king 
giving him this opportunity) entertained and en- 
couraged his majesty with this remarkable passage 
of Sir Thomas Wyndham (bis father), " who, not 
long before his death (in the year 1636), called unto 


him his five sons (haviDg not seen them together in 
some years before), and discoursed unto us (said he) 
of the loving peace and prosperity this kingdom had 
enjoyed under its three last glorious monarchs ; of 
the many miseries and calamities which lay sore upon 
our ancestors, by the several invasions and conquests 
of foreign nations, and likewise by intestine insur- 
rections and rebellions. And notwithstanding the 
strange mutations and changes in England, he showed 
how it pleased God, in love to our nation, to preserve 
an undoubted succession of kings to sit on the regal 
throne. He mentioned the healing conjunction of 
the two houses of York and Lancaster, and the blessed 
union of the two crowns of England and Scotland, 
stopping up those fountains of blood which, by 
national feuds and quarrels kept open, had like to 
have drowned the whole island. He said he feared 
the beautiful garment of peace would shortly be torn 
in pieces through the neglect of magistrates, the 
general corruption of manners, and the prevalence of 
a puritanical faction, which (if not prevented) would 
undermine the very pillars of government. *My 
sons ! we have hitherto seen serene and quiet times, 
but now prepare yourselves for cloudy and troublesome. 
I command you to honour and obey our gracious 
sovereign, and in all times to adhere to the crown ; 
and though the crown should hang upon a bush, I 
charge you forsake it not.' These words being 


Spoken with much earnestness, both in gesture and 
manner extraordinary, he rose from his chair, and 
left us in a deep consultation what the meaning 
should be of ' the crown hanging iipon a busb.' 
These words, sir (said the colonel), made so firm an 
impression in all our breasts, that the many afflic- 
tions of these sad times cannot raze out their 
undelible characters. Certainly, these are the days 
which my father pointed out in that expression ; and, 
I doubt not, God hath brought me through so many 
dangers, that I might show myself both a dutiful 
son and a loyal subject, in faithfully endeavouring to 
serve your sacred majesty in this your greatest dis- 

After this rehearsal, the colonel (in obedience to 
his majesty's command) told the king that Sir John 
Strangways (who had given many testbnonies of his 
loyalty, having two sons, both of them colonels for 
hia royal father) lived but four mJIes from Trent, 
that he was a person of great fortime and interest 
in Dorsetshire, and therefore he supposed that either 
Sir John or his sons might be serviceable to his 
majesty's occasions. The king, in prosecution of this 
proposal, commanded the colonel to wait on them ; 
and accordingly the next morning he went over to 
Melbury, the place where Sir John dwelt. No sooner 
was he come thither, but he met with Colonel Giles 
Strangways, and after usual salutations, they walked 

340 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

into the park adjoyning to the house, where Colonel 
Wyndham imparted the reason and end of his pre- 
sent visit. Colonel Strangways' answer was, that he 
was infinitely grieved, because he was not able to 
serve his majesty in procuring a vessel according to 
expectation ; that he knew not any one master of a 
ship, or so much as one mariner that he could trust, 
all that were formerly of his acquaintance in Wey- 
mouth being for their loyalty banished and gone be- 
yond the sea ; and in Pool and Lime he was a mere 
stranger, having not one confident in either. A 
hundred pounds in gold he delivered to Colonel 
Wyndham, to present to the king ; which at his 
return, by command, was deposited in the hands of 
the Lord Wilmot for his majesty's use. 

About this time the forces under Cromwell were 
retreated from Worcester into the several quarters of 
the country ; some of which coming to Trent, pro- 
claimed the overthrow of the king s army, and the 
death of the king, giving out that he was certainly 
killed ; and one of them affirmed that he saw him 
dead, and that he was buried among the rest of the 
slain, no injury being offered to his body, because he 
was a valiant soldier and a gallant man. This wel- 
come news so tickled the sectaries, that they could 
not hold from expressing their joy by making bonfires, 
firing of guns, drinking, and other jollities ; and for 
a close of all, to the church they must, and there ring 



the king's knell. These mde extravaganciea moved 
not his majesty at all, but only (as if he were more 
troubled for their madness than his own misfortune) 
to this most Chiistiau and compassionate expression, 
" Alas, poor people ! " 

Now, though the king valued not the menaces of 
his proud enemies, being confident they could do him 
no hurt, yet he neglected not to try the faithfulness 
of his friends to convey him out of their reach. Thus 
the former design proving unsuccessful, and all hope 
of transfretation that way being laid aside, the 
colonel acquainted his majesty that one Captain 
"William Ellesden of Lime (formerly well known unto 
him), with his brother, John Ellesden (by means of 
Colonel Bullen Reymea of Wadden, in Dorsetshire), 
had conveyed over into France Sii- John Berkley 
(afterward Lord Berkley) in a time of danger. To 
this captain, therefore, his majesty sends the colonel, 
who, lodging at his house in Lime, took an oppor- 
tunity to tell him that the Loi-d Wilmot had made 
his escape from Worcester, that he lay privately near 
to him, and that his lordship had earnestly solicited 
him to use hia utmost endeavours to secure bim 
from the hands of the pursuers. To this purpose he 
was come to town, and assured the captain, if he 
would join in this affair, his courtesy should never 
be forgotten. The captain very cordially embraced 
the motion, and went mth the colonel to Charmouth 

342 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

(a little place near Lime), where, at an inn, he 
brought to him a tenant of his, one Stephen Limbry, 
assuring the colonel that he was a right honest man, 
and a perfect royalist. With this Limbry, Colonel 
Wyndham treated imder the name of Captain Norris, 
and agreed with him to transport himself and three 
or foxir friends into France. The conditions of their 
agreement were : that before the two and twentieth 
day of that instant September, Limbry should bring 
his vessel into Charmouth road, and on the said 
two and twentieth, in the night, should receive the 
colonel and his company into his long-boat from the 
beach near Charmouth, from thence carry them to 
his ship, and so land them safe in France. This 
the colonel conjured Limbry to perform with all 
secresy, because all the passengers were of the royal 
party, and intended to be shipped without leave, to 
avoid such oaths and engagements which otherwise 
would be forced upon them ; and therefore privacy 
in this transaction would free him from danger, and 
themselves from trouble, the true cause why they so 
earnestly thirsted (for some time) to leave their 
native country. Limbry 's salary was sixty pounds, 
which the captain engaged to pay at his return from 
France, upon sight of a certificate under the passen- 
gers' hands of their landing there. To the perform- 
ance of these covenants, Limbry with many vows 
and protestations obliging himself, the colonel with 



much satisfaction and speed, came back to his ma- 
jesty and the Lord Wilmot, to Trent, who, at the 
narration of these passages, expr^sed no small con- 

The business being thus far successfully laid, the 
king consults how it might be prudentially managed, 
that so there might be no miscarriage in the prosecu- 
tion. Necessary it was that his majesty and all his 
attendants (contrary to the use of travellers) should 
sit up all the night in the inn at Charmouth ; that 
they ought to have the command of the house to go 
in and out at pleasure, the tide not serving till twelve 
at night. To remove, therefore, all suspicion and iu- 
eonveniences, this expedient was found out : 

Henry Peters (Colonel Windham's servant) was 
Bent to Charmouth inn, who, inviting the hostess to 
drink a glass of wine, told her that he served a very 
gallant master, who had long most afiectionately 
loved a lady in Devon, and had the happiness to be 
well beloved by her ; and though her equal in birth 
and fortune, yet so unequal was his fate, that by no 
means could he obtain her friends' consent.and tliere- 
fore it was agreed between them that he should carry 
her thence, and marry her among his own allies ; and 
for this purpose his master had sent him to desire 
her to keep the best chambers for him, intending to 
be at her house upon the two and twentieth day of 
that month in the evening, where he resolved not to 


lo*ige, lot ohIt to r^esh himself and friends, and 
so tniTel on either that night or very early next 
morning. With this loTe-story (thus contrived and 
acted/, together with a present delivered by Peters 
from his mast^ the hostess was so well pleased, that 
she promised him her house and servants should be 
at his master's conmiand. All which she very justly 

When the day appointed for his majesty's journey 
to Charmouth was come, he was pleased to ride before 
Mrs Julian Coningsby (the Lady Wyndham's niece), 
as formerlv before Mrs Lane. The colonel was his 
majesty's guide ; whilst the Lord Wilmot, with Peters, 
kept at a convenient distance, that they might not 
seem to be all of one company. 

Li this manner travelling, they were timely met 
by Captain EUesden, and by him conducted to a pri- 
vate house of his brother s among the hills, near Char- 
mouth. There liis majesty was pleased to discover 
himself to the captain, and to give him a piece of 
foreign gold, in wliich in his solitary hours he made 
a hole to put a ribbon in. Many like pieces his ma- 
jesty vouchsafed the colonel and his lady, to be kept 
as records of his majesty's favour, and of their own 
fidelity to his most sacred person in the day of his 
greatest trial. All which they most thankfully 
treasured up as the chiefest jewels of their family. 

This royal company from thence came to the inn 


at Charmouth, a little after night, where Captain 
Ellesden, solemnly engaging to see the master of the 
ship ready (the wind blowing then fair for France), 
took leave of his majesty. About an hour after, came 
Limbry to the inn, and assured the colonel all things 
were prepared, and that about midnight his long- 
boat sliould wait at the place appointed. The set 
hoin- drawing nigh, the colonel, with Peters, went to 
the sea-side (leaving his majesty and the Lord Wil- 
mot in a posture to come away upon eall), where they 
remained all night expecting ; but seeing no long- 
boat, neither hearing any message from the master 
of the ship, at the break of day the colonel returns 
to the inn, and beseeches the king and the lord Wil- 
mot to haste from thence. Hie majesty was intreated ; 
but the Lord Wilraot was desirous to stay behind a 
little, promising to follow the king to Bridport, where 
his majesty intended to make a halt for him. 

When the king was gone, the Lord Wilmot sent 
Peters into Lime, to demand of Captain Ellesden the 
reason why Lirabry broke his promise and forfeited 
his word. lie seemed much surprised with this 
message, and said he knew no reason, except it being 
a fair day, the seamen were drunk in taking their 
farewel ; and withal advised his lordship to be gone, 
because his stay there could not be safe. But 
since that. Limbry himself hath given this account 
under his own hand ; 


That according to an agreement made at Char- 
mouth, September the 19th, 1651, betwixt himself 
and one Captain Norris (since known to be Colonel 
Francis Wyndham), he put forth his ship beyond the 
Cobsmouth in to Charmouth Road, where his servants 
on the 22d of the same month were all ready in her, 
waiting his coming ; that he going to his house 
about ten that night, for linen to carry with him, 
was unexpectedly locked into a chamber by his wife, 
to whom he had a little before revealed his intended 
voyage with some passengers into France, for whose 
transportation, at his return, he was to receive a 
considerable sum of money from Captain Ellesden. 

This woman, it seems, was frighted into a pannick 
fear by that dreadful proclamation (of the 1 0th of 
September) set out by the men of Westminster, and 
published that day at Lime. In this a heavy penalty 
was tlmudered out against all that should conceal 
the king, or any of his party who were at Worcester 
fight ; and a reward of a thousand pounds promised 
to any that sliould betray him. She, apprehending 
the persons her husband engaged to carry over to be 
royalists, resolved to secure him from danger by 
making him a prisoner in his own chamber. All the 
persuasions he used for his liberty were in vain ; for 
the more he in treated, the more her violent passion 
increased, breaking forth into such clamours and 
lamentations that he feared, if he should any longer 


contend, both himself and the gentlemen he promised 
to transport woixld be caet away in this storm, 

without ever going to sea. 

Thus a design in a business of the highest nature, 
and carried on with industry and prudence even to 
the very last, still promising full hope of a happy 
production, by one man's single whisper (the bane 
of action) proved abortive. For, no doubt, had 
Limbry kept his council, he had gained the honour 
of conveying over his majesty ; of whose noble 
courage and virtue God was pleased to make yet 
farther trial, as the sequel will inform. 

The king, passing on upon London road from 
Charmouth, met many travellers, among whom was 
one of bis father's servants, well known both to his 
majesty and the colonel, who were very well pleased 
that he was not guilty of so much civility as to give 
either of them the compliment of a salutation. As 
they drew near to Bridport, the colonel riding a 
little before, and entering the town, perceived it fidl 
of soldiers ; whereupon, stopping his horse till the 
king came up, he intreated his majesty to keep on, 
and by no means to put himself into the mouth of 
them who gaped greedily after his destruction. 
Nevertheless, the king having engaged to the Lord 
WUmot to expect him there (without the least 
apprehension of danger), rode into the George, and 
alighting in the court, was forced to stay there, and 

348 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

in the stable, near half an hour, before the colonel 
could procure a chamber. All this while his bloody- 
enemies were his only companions, with whom he 
discoursed freely without fear, and learned from 
them their intended voyage for Jersey and Guernsey, 
and their design upon those islands. Here may you 
see the pursuers overtaken, and the bitterest of 
enemies friendly discoursing with him whose utter 
ruin they accounted would compleat their happiness. 
He that sate in heaven certainly laughed them to 
scorn, and by the interposition of his mighty arm 
eclipsed their glory, and by his admirable wisdom 
reproved and confuted their malice against the king, 
and their blasphemies against heaven. 

No sooner had the king withdrawn himself from 
this dangerous company into a chamber (with 
much difficulty obtained), but Mrs Coningsby espied 
Peters riding into the inn. He (being beckoned 
up) acquainted his majesty that the Lord Wilmot 
humbly petitioned him to make haste out of that 
place, and to overtake him slowly passing on the 
road, and waiting his majesty's coming, Presently, 
upon the dismission of Peters, the king having taken 
some small repast not far from the town, joined in 
company again with the Lord Wilmot, and dis- 
coursing of the several adventures of that hopeful 
and (as it fell out) most perillous journey, concluded 
that London road was very unsafe, and therefore 


resolved to follow the next turning which might 
proltably lead towards Yeavill or Sberborn, neither 
of which is computed to be above two milea distajit 
fi-om Trent. Providence (the best of guides) directed 
these strangers (for so they were all to those parts) 
to a way, which after many hours travel brought 
them into a village, in which was a small inn for 
entertainment. Thus entered these masked travellers, 
to enquire where they were. And to this piupose 
calling for some beer, the host of the house (one 
Kice Jones) came forth, and informed them that the 
place was called Broadwinsor, The colonel knew 
the innkeeper and his wife to be veiy honest, loyal 
persons, and that for their fidelity to the king and 
hia party they had (according to their condition) 
undergone their share of troubles. The king under- 
standing the affection of the people, resolves to lodge 
in the house that night, it being already somewhat 
dark, and hia majesty and company sufiiciently 
wearied with their former night's watching and that 
day's travel. The colonel (while the horses were 
put up) desired Mr Jones to show him the moat 
private rooms ; the reason be gave was, because his 
brother-in-law. Colonel Reymes (whom the Lord 
Wilmot personated) had been a long time im- 
prisoned as well as himself ; that they had lately 
obtained their paroles, and to be seen together so far 
from their homes might create new jealousies, and ao 

350 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

consequently crush them with new troubles. The 
good host upon this brought them up into the 
highest chambers, where privateness recompensed the 
meanness of the accommodation, and the pleasant- 
ness of the host (a merry fellow) allayed and miti- 
gated the weariness of the guests. Now the face of 
things began to smile, which, all the day and night 
preceding, looked so louring and ill-favoured. But 
this short calm was on a sudden interrupted by a 
violent storm ; for in comes the constable with 
almost forty soldiers to be billetted that very night 
in the inn ; all the lower receptacles were thronged 
up with this unexpected company, so that the king 
was in a manner besieged, there being no passage 
from above but through those suspected guards. 
Thus every place brought forth its troubles, and 
every period of time disclosed fresh dangers ! Shortly 
after the soldiers had taken up their quarters, 
a woman in their company fell into labour in the 
kitchen. The pangs she endured made the inhabi- 
tants of that place very ill at ease, fearing lest the 
whole parish should become the reputed father, 
and be enforced to keep the child. To avoid this 
charge, the chiefest of the parish post to the inn, 
between whom and the soldiers arose a very hot 
conflict concerning provision to be made for the 
mother and the infant. This dispute continued till 
such time as (according to orders) they were to march 


to the sea-side. Thia quarrelsome gossiping was a 
most seasonable diversion, exercising the miuds of 
those trovtblesome fellows, who otherwise were likely 
to have proved too inquisitive after the giiests 
in the house, the sad consequences of which every 
loyal heart trembles to think on. 

Surely we cannot (except we wilfidly shut our own 
eyes) but clearly see, and with all reverence and 
thankfulness adore the divine goodness for his 
majesty's signal deliverances in thia voyage ; espe- 
cially if, looking back upon Charmouth, we consider 
the dangers that threatened him, occasioned by ttie 
Lord Wilmot'a short stay there after the king's 
departure ; for one Hamnet, a smith, being called to 
shoe his lordship's horse, said he well knew, by the 
fashion of the shoes, that they were never set in the 
west, but in the north. The hostler (a bird of the 
same feather) hearing this, began to tell wJiat com- 
pany had been there, how they sate up and kept their 
horses saddled all the night ; and from hence they 
conclude thateither the king orsome gi-eat personshad 
certainly been at the inn. The hostler (whose heart 
was soured against the king) runs presently to one 
Westley (of the same leaven), then minister of 
Charmouth, to inform him of these passages, and to 
ask counsel what was to be done. This Westley 
was at his morning exercise, and being something 
long-winded (and by tlie way, it may be observed, 

352 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

that long prayers, proceeding from a traiterous heart, 
once did good, but by accident only), the hostler, 
unwilling to lose his reward, at the gentleman's 
taking horse, returns without doing his errand. As 
soon as my lord was mounted and gone, Hamnet 
tells Westley of the discourse between him and the 
hostler. Away comes Westley upon full speed to 
the inn, and (almost out of breath) asks the woman 
of the house what guests she had entertained that 
night. She said they were all strangers to her ; 
she knew them not. " I tell you, then," said he, " one 
of them was the king." Then hastily turning away 
from her, he and Hamnet ran to Mr Butler, of Commer 
(then justice of peace), to have him dispatch abroad 
his warrants to raise the country for the apprehend- 
of the king, and those persons the last night with 
him at Charmouth : but he spends his mouth in vain, 
a deaf ear is turned upon him, no warrant would be 
issued forth. This check given to his zeal so vexed 
him, that it had like to have caused a suffocation, 
had not Captain Massey (as errant a Hotspur as him- 
self) given it vent by raising a party, and pursuing 
the king upon London road. But God preserved 
his majesty by diverting him to Broadwinsor, whilst 
Massey and his hot-mettled company outran their 
prey as far as Dorchester. And indeed the report of 
the king s being at Charmouth was grown so com- 
mon, that the soldiers (lying in those parts) searched 


the houses of several gentlemen who were acconntecl 
royalists, thinking to surprise him. Amongst which. 
Pilisdon (the house of Sir Hugh Wyndham, uncle 
to Colonel Francis Wyndham) was twice rifled. 
They took the old baronet, his lady, daughters, and 
whole family, and set a guard upon them in the 
hall, whilst they examine every comer, not sparing 
either trunk or box. Then taking a particular view 
of their prisoners, they seize a lovely young lady, 
saying she was the king di.sguised in woman's 
apparrel. At length being con\'inced of theii- gross 
and rude mistake, they desisted from ofl'ering any 
further violence to that family. And here it lb 
much to be observed, that, the same day the king 
went from Cliarmouth, Captam Ellesdon came to 
Pilisdon, and enquired of Sir Hugh and his lady for 
the king and colonel, confidently affirming that they 
must needs be there. 

His majesty having with an evenness of spiiit 
gotten through this rough passage, safely anchored 
at Broadwinsor, where, at length enjoying some rest, 
he commands the colonel to give his opinion what 
course was to be taken, as the face of aflairs then 
looked. The colonel (seeing forces drawn every- 
where upon that shore) thought it very hazardous 
to attempt anything more in Dorsetshire, and there- 
fore humbly besought his majesty that he would be 
. to retreat to Trent i he hoped his majesty 

354 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

was already satisfied in the fidelity of his servants, 
and that he doubted not his majesty might lie 
securely in that creek, till it was fair weather and a 
good season to put forth to sea. He humbly advised 
that Peters might conduct the Lord Wilmot to Air 
Huit's house at the King's Arms in Sarum, where 
he and many of his friends had been sheltered in the 
time of troubles ; that Peters (being at Sarum) 
should, by a private token, bring his lordship to Mr 
John Coventry (his kinsman), a person noble, wise, 
and loyal, with whom he had kept intelligence, in 
order to the king's service, ever since his majesty 
had set foot in Scotland ; that he was assured Mr 
Coventry would think himself highly honoured to 
correspond in this matchless employment, the king's 
preservation. He desired the Lord Wilmot to be 
confident of lying concealed, and likewise to treat 
with Mr Coventry, and by Peters to return his majes- 
ty an account how he found that gentleman affected 
towards this service. 

This counsel being well relished and approved, it 
was resolved that between Sarum and Trent (lying 
thirty miles distant and better) an intercourse 
should be kept by trusty messengers, and a secret 
way of writing, to avoid danger in case of inter- 
ception. All things being thus concluded, the king 
left his jovial host at Broadwinsor, and returned with 
the colonel and Mrs Coningsby to Trent. The Lord 



Wilmot, with Peters, went that night to Sherbom, 
and the nest morning was waited ou by Swan (who 
attended his lordsliip to the colonel's), and that day 
got into Samm, where he soon saluted Mr Coventry, 
in all things fully answering his lordship's expecta- 
tion. And (the SSth of September) Peters was sent 
back with this joyful message from the Lord Wilmot 
to his majesty, that he doubted not (by Mr Coven- 
try's assistance, and those recommended by him) to 
be able in some short time to effect his desires. 

Wliilst his sacred majesty enjoys his peace at 
Trent, and the Lord Wilmot (with those other wor- 
thies) is busied at Sarum to produce its continua- 
tion, it cannot be impertinent to mention a circum- 
stance or two, which inserted in the midst of the 
web and texture of this story would have looked 
unhandsome, but added as a fringe may prove orna- 

Upon the Sunday morning after the king came to 
Trent, a tailor of the parish informed the colonel 
that the zealots (which swarmed in that place) dis- 
coursed over night that persons of quality were hid 
in bis bouse, and that they intended to search and 
seise them ; and therefore he desired the colonel 
(if any such there were) to convey them thence, to 
avoid surprisaL The colonel (rewarding the good 
man for his care and kindness towards himself and 
family) told him that his kinsman (meaning the 

366 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

Lord Wilmot) was not private, but public in his 
house (for so his lordship pleased to be), and that he 
believed he would show himself in the church at the 
time of prayers. When the honest fellow was gone, 
the colonel acquaints the king what passed between 
himself and the tailor, and withal besought his 
majesty to persuade the Lord Wilmot to accompany 
him to church, thinking, by this means, not only to 
lessen the jealousy, but also to gain the good opinion 
of some of the fanaticks, who would be apt to be- 
lieve that the colonel was rather brought to church 
by my lord, than his lordship by the colonel, who 
seldom came to that place since faction and rebellion 
had justled out and kept possession against peace 
and religion. He alledged, moreover, that he sate in 
an ile distinct from the body of the congregation, so 
that the parishioners could not take a full view of 
any of his company. These reasons, joined with his 
majesty's command, prevailed with his lordship ; 
and (though he thought it a bold adventure, yet) 
it not only allayed the fury, but also took out the 
very sting of those wasps, insomuch that they, who 
the last night talked of nothing but searching, began 
now to say that Cromweirs late success against the 
king had made the colonel a convert. 

All being now quiet about home, the colonel's lady 
(under a pretence of a visit) goes over to Sherbom 
to hear what news there was abroad of the king. 


And towards evening, at her return, a troop of horse 
clapt privately into the town. This silent way of 
entering their quarters, in so triumphant a time, gave 
a strong alarm to this careful lady, whose thoughts 
were much troubled concerning her royal guest. A 
stop she made to hearken out what brought them 
thither, aud whether they were bound ; but not oue 
grain of intelligence could he procured by the most 
industrious enquiry. When slie came home, she 
gave his majesty an account of many stories, which 
like flying clouds were blown about by the breath of 
the people, striving to cover her trouble with the vail 
of cheerfulness. But this the king perceiving to be 
rather forced than free, as at other times, was earnest 
to know the cause of her discomposure-; and to 
satisfy his majesty's importunity, she gave him a full 
relation of the troop at Sherbom, at which his ma- 
jesty laughed most heartily, as if he had not been in 
the least concerned. Yet upon a serious debate of 
the matter, the colonel and his lady suppUcated the 
king to take a view of his privy chamber into which 
he was pei-suaded to enter, hut came presently forth 
again, much pleased that, upon the least approach of 
danger, he could thither retreat with an assurauce of 
security. All that night the colonel kept strict 
watch in hia house, and was the more vigilant, be- 
cause he understood from Sherbom that the troop 
intended not to quai'ter there, but only to refresh 

358 THE kino's concealment AT TRENT, 

themselves and march. And accordingly (not so 
much as looking towards Trent) about two of the 
clock the next morning, they removed towards the 
sea coast. This fear being over, the king rested all 
the time of his stay at Trent, without so much as the 
apprehension of a disturbance. 

The strangeness of which will be much increased 
by the addition of what a captain, who served under 
Cromwell at Worcester, reported to two divines of 
undoubted veracity, long before the king's blessed 
restauration, — that he was followed and troubled 
with dreams for three nights together that the king 
was hid at Trent, near Sherborn, in a house nigh to 
which stood a grove, or patch of trees, and that 
thither he should go and find him. This suggestion, 
thus reiterated, was a powerful spur to prick him 
forwards ; but the hand which held the reins, and 
kept him back, was irresistible. 

Now the hands of his majesty's enemies were not 
only restrained from doing him evil, but the hands 
of his friends were strengthened to do him good. In 
order to which, Colonel Edward Phelips of Monta- 
cute, in the county of Somerset, came from Sarum, 
to his majesty (Sept. the 28th), with this intelli- 
gence, that his brother, Colonel Kobert Phelips, was 
employed to Southampton to procure a vessel, of 
whose transaction his majesty should receive a 
speedy account. 




In tlie mean time Captain Thomas Littleton (a 
neighbour of Colonel Wyndbam) was dispatched up 
into Hampshire, where, by the aid of Mr Stanclish, 
he dealt with the master of a ship, who undertook 
to carry ofiF the Lord Wilmot and his company, 
upon the condition his lordship would follow his 
direction. But the hope of Colonel Phelips his good 
success at Hampton dashed this enterprise, and the 
captain was remanded back to Trent, and to oiake 
no progress till farther order. 

U[>on the first of October, Mr John Selliock 
(chaplain to llr Coventry) brought a letter to his 
majesty. In answer to which the king wrote back, 
that he desired all diligence might be used in pro- 
viding a vessel, and if it should prove difficult at 
Hampton, trial shoidd be naade farther ; that they 
should be ascertained of a ship before they sent to 
remove him, that so he might run no more hazards 
than what of necessity he must meet with in 
bis passage from Trent to the place of his trans- 

October the fifth. Colonel Phelips came from the 
Lord Wilmot and Mr Coventry to his majesty with 
this assurance, that all things were ready, and 
that he had informed himself with the most private 
ways, that so he might "with greater probability of 
safety guide his majesty to the sea-side. As soon 
as the king heai'd this message, he resolved upon his 

360 THE king's concealment AT TRENT. 

journey. Colonel Wyndham earnestly petitions lus 
majesty that he might wait on him to the shore ; 
but his majesty gave no grant, saying it was no way 
necessary, and might prove very inconvenient. Upon 
the renewing this request, the king commanded the 
contrary, but sweetened his denial with this promise, 
that if he were put to any distress, he would again 
retreat to Trent. 

About ten next morning, October the sixth, his 
majesty took leave of the old Lady Wyndham, the 
colonel's lady and family, not omitting the meanest 
of them that served him ; but to the good old lady 
he vouchsafed more than ordinary respect, who 
accounted it her highest honour that she had three 
sons and one grandchild slain in the defence of the 
father, and that she herself, in her old age, had been 
instrumental in the protection of the son, both kings 
of England. 

Thus his sacred majesty, taking Mrs Juliana Con- 
ingsby behind him, attended by Colonel Robert 
Phelips and Peters, bad farewel to Trent, the ark in 
which God shut him up when the floods of rebellion 
had covered the face of his dominions. Here he 
rested nineteen days, to give his faithful servants 
time to work his deliverance ; and the Almighty 
crowned their endeavours with success, that his 
majesty might live to appear as glorious in his 
actions as courageous in his sufferings. 


2 A 


I. The Penderel and Yates Families, 

1. Pedigree of .... Pendrell, 

•2. Richard Pendrell, 

:3. WiUiam Pendrell, 

4. Humphry Pendrell, 

5. John Pendrell, 

6. John of Boscobel, 

7. George Pendrell, 

Giles's in 

8. Epitaph on Richard Pendrell, at St 

the Fields, London, 

9. Francis Yates, 

10. Francis Yates of Longletown, 

II. The Whitgbeaves of Burton and Moseley, 

1. Pedigrees, 

2. Inscriptions on two Mural Tablets belonging 

to the family of Whitgreave, in the Parish 
Church of Bushbury, Co. Staff., . 

III. The Family of Wyndham, . . . . 

1. Pedigree of ... . Wyndham of Trent, . 

2. Table showing the Descent of ... . Wyndham 

from King Edward I. and Phih'p the Bold 
of France, 











IV. The Family of Lane, 391 

1. Pedigree, 3S»l 

2. Grants by Charles IL, of Augmentation to the 

Arms of the Descendants of John Lane of 

Bentley, 393 

3. Assignment of Crest to Thomas Lane, by 

Heralds' College, 304 

V. Colonel Whjuam Carlos, 895 

Pedigree, 397 

VL The Nortons of Abbots' Leigh, . . , . 398 

VIL Epitaph on Tombstone of Captain Tattebskll, . 399 


The Penserel and Yatbs Families. 

Im resuming the subject of the Penderel fiimily, m regards theii' 
pedigree, I ought first to acknowledge my obligatiouB to the 
Rev. K, H, Barham, of St Paul's Cathedra], as well aa to otlier 
friends well versed in antiquarian researches ; to whose kind 
assistance I owe most of the particulars here stated from the 
authority of wills, registers, Ac, and collated with information 
obligingly supplied by Ellisoti, Esq., the gentleman in- 
trusted with tbe paymeut of the several portions of the fee- 
farm rents and annuities claimed by the extant branches of tbe 

It appears that llicliard Penderel, or Trusty Dick, left four 
eons and four daughters by bia wife Mary, to all of whom ho 
liequeaf bed property. Sii of tbese died without issue. Of the 
two remaining, I.aitrcnce, who inherited Hobbal Grange from 
bis father, left a sou wbose isHue is extinct ; and Thomas, to 
whom was bequeathed a bouse and some land in Stnthertou, 
Salop, left five children. Of these last, Richard, an apothecary 
in St Clement Danes, liring a. n, 1721, and Mary, married to 

Thombury, of Kiddennore Green, near IVhife Ladies, left 

representatives, whose issue is, or was lately, living', — viz. 
Elimbctli, relict* of the late Rev. W. Lens, master of the 
Haberdashers' i^chool in BunbillRow, great-granddaughter to 
the aforesaid Richard, and James Thornbury of Brewood, 
Staffordsbire. grandson to his Btster Mary. 

William Penderel, tenant of Boacobel, the boat of Charles, 

* Eliubclh SimniolH (leo TcdlgrM. p. 300) wu not the niliot, but tbo 
wcoDd vlb of tlia Rev. WUIiotn Locu, nlio Rir«iT«d her, and re-iiiarri«l the 
widow of an HpDtliHUMy.— R. H, B. 

2 B 


and husband to Dame Joan, is said by Grainger to have been 
living as an old man of eighty-four in the time of William III. 
He left four children, from only one of whom, William Penderel 
of Boscobel, any issue now remains. The grandson of the latter, 
William Howe of Kiddermore, commonly styled Major Howe, 
left one daughter, wife of Richard Hill, maltster, of Birming- 
ham ; whose son, Richard Hill Edwards, maltster, of the same 
place, and father of nine daughters, now eigoys the fee-&rm 
rents vested in his ancestor William. 

Humphry, the trusty and humorous miller, left two children, 
one of whom, Edmund, was footman to Queen Catherine. Of 
the six children bom to the latter, Creorge only left issue. 
William Bird, great-grandson of the said George, was the father 
of the two present annuitants — viz. Maria, wife of Joseph Hunt 
of Long Island, United States, bridle-cutter ; and Anne, wife of 
Kelita Broadhurst, also a bridle-cutter, of New York. 

John Penderel, frequently styled " Old John of Boscobel," is 
represented in the direct male line by his great-great-grandson, 
Mr John Martin Penderel, of the Gloucester Hotel, Brighton, 
&ther of two sons and three daughters, and receiver of the fee- 
farm rents settled on his ancestor. This gentleman and his 
brother, Mr Charles Penderel of Loudon, were sons of Mr John 
Penderel of East Bourn, Sussex, in which county their branch 
of the family have lived for the three last generations. Accord- 
ing to a letter received by the said John Penderel from Thomas 
Ponderel of Aberdylais,* in Glamorgan, a. d. 1783, it seems that 
the latter was grandson to Charles Penderel of Essington, 
Staflford, the third son of John of Boscobel. The writer left a 
son, one of whose daughters is married to the Rev. G. J. Fislier, 
nephew to the late Bishop of Sarum. 

George Penderel is also represented by a descendant in the 
direct male line — viz. John Penderel of Birmingham, joiner, 
father of three sons ; great-great-grandson to the said George, 
and annuitant in liis right. 

* See family memoranda in the possession of the ladies of the AWrdylais 
branch, which state that John of Boscobel left, besides John, George, and 
Charles, two daughters, whose issue is not extinct. The document refers to 
pai:>ers stated to bo in the king's privy coimcil office. 


A considerable obscurity, which is not rectified by reference 
to Blount, exists with regard to the two Francis Yates's stated 
in the royal grants, and their wives, Margaret and Elizabeth. 
It appears, however, from the figimily pedigree, that four de- 
scendants of Elizabeth Dyson, daughter of Francis and Eliza- 
beth Yates, now enjoy the royal endowment, in proportions of 
a fourth each. The said Elizabeth, wife of Thomas Dyson of 
Kettering, in Northamptonshire; was great-grandmother to an- 
other Thomas Dyson, in whose right the said proportions are re- 
spectively vested in his grandchildren, Lieut. Joseph Winnet, of 
Hali&x, N.S., and Thomas Walker, merchant, of Annapolis Boyal, 
and his great-grandchildren, Lieut. William Fenwick, B.A., and 
Charles Henry Adlam, an infant. 

The only surviving descendant of Francis and Margaret 
Yates, is William Penderel Waddington, Esq., formerly of Chat- 
ham Place, bom 1791, and fifth in descent from Nicholas their 
only son, through three changes of name occasioned by the mar- 
riage of females. 







I 9 ^ S 







■ II 


:5s -as 


B cS«c 


r © > Si-. 

55 CU, es;3'0-H 










• ^ S 9 .J "^ « -r 


K "-^ 2 8 o «r 

»• 47 O 

^ e ~' »« 'i' q) ^ 




'9 ^^ 9i 




•y c c s > 

oS o P o 


&w . P ^ 









.a c:0 


a -2ij s^ 

In . 

•o o 


1-4 OQ «t 



■3 tM 



*) « 



s" lb b i o^'5 ^ 
9 O.S s^-ci; a 





& • 







of BooGobel, aaid to 
havo lived unto Kg- 
William 8<i'> time, »t. 

daQr. of 

Mary, daOr. = 
of . . living 
in 1704, died 



William Pen- 

drell of BooGO* 

bel, gent., will 

dated 16 June 

1704, proved 16 

Jmie 1706. 

Thomaa Pen- 

drell sold Umds 

at Kiddimore 

to his brother 

William, ob. 



. . lones = France* . . Lloyd = Ana, 
left issue. 

had a pen- 
sion in 
1606, being 
then agocL 



sion in 


Thomas Pendrell = Mary, daar. 

of 8*- Paul's, Covt. of . . Qil- 

Garden, Distiller. oott. Will 

Will dated 16 Febr- dated 1724. 

and proved 6*^ 

Thomas Howe,= 
living 1704. 


Mary, had the lands at Kiddi- 
more by her fiither's will — 
livs. 1710-11. 

William Howe, 

commonly called 

Mi^or Howe. 

= . . daor. of . . 

daOr. and heir. 

Rich<L HillofCheapside, 
Birmingham, Maltster. 


Rich<i- Hill Ed- =: Mary, daQr. of . . Richards. 

wards. Maltster, 

received the An- 
nuity 17 April 

1829, then livs- at 



Emma. Mary Anno. 

I I 

Matilda. Anno. 

ill II 

Elizt^ Sarah. Caroline. Harriet. Martha. 

[ R. H. B. ] 





the miller, witness to his 
brother Richard's Will, 
live- 1682, dead in 1710. 

ELEANOR, died in 1710; administration, in 
which she is called •« of Boecobel, Widow," 
granted to Marv Wbitehurst, widow, her 
daOr., dated 23 Octr- 1710. 


Edmund Fendrell, = . . daar. of . 

Mary. - 
tratrix to 


Rich<L WhitehursL 
Dead in 1710. 





bapt. at 




9 July 


Richard Pendrell, 
the only son nam- 
ed in his father's 
Will, also in the 
Protection of 1708; 
to hare been call- 
ed Roman Dick, 
and to have died 
S.P. Bapt. at the 
Queen's Cluup., 
l*8ep»- 1679. 

Gea Pen- 
drell, not 
in his 



Not men- 
tioned in 




Ann, = 


Zaohariah Bird, .= Eleanor 



= Axma. 

Thomas Bird, = . . daOr. 


Richard Healy, 

a Friar, received 

the Annuity till 

his death. 

WiUiam Bird, = . . daQr. of . . 

loseph Hunt, 

of Long Island, 


cutter, the 


AprL 1829. 

Maria, daOr. 
and co-heir. 

I , 
Anne, daOr. 

and co-heir. 

=:= Kelita Broadhurst, of New 
York, ;U.&, Bridle-cutter. 
Annuitant, AprL 1829. 

[ R. H. B. ] 




lOUN PENDRELL. = . . daOr. of . . 

I I : * • 

lohn Peadrell, = . . daQr. O«or]ge Charlea Pendrell, = . . daur. Two daara.. 


ob. &P. 

of . . said by Mr 

Fendrell of 

Aberdylaia to 

hare left iMue. 

See page 306. 

Oharles Pendrell, = . . daQr. of . . A son. A son. . . Pendrellf = . . daCir. 

of Alftreston, Cd. 

Buff., BuraeoD, 
). 170. 

. datkr. of . 
1«* wife. 

: lobn Pendrell, ; 
of East Bourne, 

CO. Suss^' ob. 

ITNoyf- 1827. 

. . daQr. 
2^ wife. 

lohn Martin PendreU, 
of the Gloucester 
Hotel, Brighton, re- 
ceived tho pension 





of London. 

See page 


3^ son. 


Thomas Pendrell, : 
of Aberdylais^ Co. 
Olamn-. 1788, gires 
this acc*> of bis oon- 

neetioQ wiUi the 
fiunily in a letter to 

lohn Pendrell, of 

East Bourne. See 

page 866. 


Thomas PendreU, 

Scowererinthe King's 

Kitchen, 1783. 

daQr. of 


lohn Richard 


I I I 

1. Sarah. 

2. Susanna. 

3. Priscilla-Rhoda. 

[ R. H. B. ] 

Between tl.o Pedigree of John Pendrell here given, and that on next 

page, there seems a discrepancy. 
































fl a • 














-^ w 






















ofWhiteehap«l, Co. 
Midd>-, widow. 1079. 

Revil] or 
NevUl Yates, 

eldest son, 
desd in 1670. 

Frances, died 

in a nunneiy 



daOr. of . . 

dead in 1670. 


kbeth. = 

Elizabeth, died 
in a nunnery 
at Rouen in 


Dyson. = 

Thomas Dyson Richard Tales 
of Kettering. CO. of8>> Marg*^ 
Northants. Westmr..ob. 8.P. 

. . daOr. . . 

John Dyson. 

. da&r. of . ., 

Tho* Dyson, = 

Alice. daOr. 
of . . 

Thomas Daniel Oeorge 

ob. 1766, ob. 6 ob. 7 

S.P. Oof- ApL 

1759, 1763, 

8. P. S.P. 



W"- Win- 

Maxy. Tho>- 







Co. Surrey, 

Oapt in 

the army. 

= Ist 

William Fenwick, 

Liout.-Colouel in 

the army. 


losoph Winnet, 

of HaUlax in 

Nova Scotia. roc<>- 

a 4t>> share of the 

Annuity, ApL 


Tho^ Walker 
of Annapolis 
Royal. U. S., a 
Merchant, rec<i- 
a 4<'> share of 
Annuity, Ap^ 

lobn ■ 



William Fenwick, 
Lieut. R. A. , rec<i- 
a 4*h share of An- 
nuity, April 1829. 

Charles Homy 
Adlam. ct.9., rec<i- 
a 4^ ^are of An- 
nuity 1829. 

[ R. H. B. ] 



At St Giles's in the Fields, LondoxL The Monument is said, in the old 
newspaper from which this is extracted (in ColL Arm.— Goff's Notes, 2), 
to have been cleaned and beautified, by order of his Majesty, in 1739. 

Hen Ueth 


Preserver and Comforter to His Sacred Majesty King Charles the Second 
of Great Britain, after his escape from Worcester fight, in the year 1651, 
who died Feb7- 8, 1671. 

Hold, Paasenger^here is shroaded in thia hearse, 

Unparallel'd Pendrill, through the Universe, 

Like when the Eastern Star from Heav'n gave light 

To three lost Kings, so he in such dark night 

To Britain's monarch, lost by adrerse war, 

On either appear'd a second eastern star, 

A pole astern iu her rebellious main, 

A Pilot to his Royal Soreraine; 

Now to triumph in Heav'bs eternal sphere, 

He's hence advanced, for his just steerag« here, 

Whilst Albion's Chronicle, with matchless flune, 

Embalms the story of great Pendiill's name. 

[ R. H. B. ] 



ii-l' nii* 

f ^m '11' 





of Longletown, near 
Boacobel, dead be- 
fore the Restoration. 

MARGARET, daftr. of . . 
dead before y* Restorat"- 

Nicholas Tales, of 

the Savoy, in CO. 

If idd*-> Gent., only 

son, ob. 27 Ap>* 


Frances, sole daQr. = 

and heir. inar<L 
Sepf- 1708, ob. Aug. 


Frances, daOr. of 
ob. Octr. 1739. 

bom 18 Juno 
1709, o. c. 12 
Septr- 1783. 

lohn Crawford, 


Law, ob. 


Anne, bom 

19 Nov- 

1710, in«i. 

circa 1743, 

bur<*- at 




Francis Rigmaden, of Alcester, 
Co. Warw^, ob. st Twickenham, 
CO. Mid*-, Septr. 1747. 

Francis Valentine ; 
Sykes, of Lincoln's 
Inn Fields, Attr- 
at-Law, ob. at Tar- 
mouth, circa 1771. 

Theresa, young- 
est daQr., and at 
length co-heir, 
born 11 Ocf- 
1713, md- 19 
Nov 1734, bur<»- 
at Uppingham, 
CO. Rutland, 6 
Apt- 1791. 

a son, 
ob. in^ 

William Crawford, 

bom drca 1750 ; 

liv*-, married, but 

8.P. 1791. 

.. eldest 



son, ob. 

born circ. 

bom 1749, 

in^. 19* 

1740, ob. 

ob. 8. P. 


in India, 


drc. 1764. 

Grace, daQr. 
of Francis 
Burch, of 

m<^- there. 


Henry Bykes, of 

the Crescent, 

New Bridge 

Street, and of 


Co. Midx-> bora 

drca 1742. 

William Waddlngton 

of Chatham Place, 

Blackfriars, London, 

Esq., 1792. 

: Grace Valentine, bom 
in Great Queen Street, 
Lincoln's Inn, 14 
Febr- 1768. mar<i- at 
8^ Anne's, Black- 
friars, 22^ Aug-- 1788, 
living 1792. 


William Pendrell 
Waddingrton, bom ll^i^ 

luly 1791, baptd- in 

Bridewell Chapel. 33^ 

Aug^ same year, 

eldest son, ob. S.P., 

ante 1833. 

Henry Waddington, 

ob. inl*-. bur<L in 

Bridewell ChapoL 

Thomas Waddington, 
3«*- and only surviv- 
ing son, the Annui- 
tant in Deer- 1833, 
at which period be 
wfts engaged in a 
n^otiation with the 
Government for the 
sale of the pension. 
Bora 1792. 

[ R. H. B. ] 



i» 9 


K — 


















— ■s 


5 I^S^I 




8 • 



2 • 

— o g 




Belonging to the Family of Whtpobeavb, in the Parish Church of Bush- 

bury, Co. Staff. 


Fidelitatis inooncusac 
Thome Whitgreave ArmL CatholicA Religione 


ox atirpe Whitgreavoram da Burton 


SeranisBimum Begem Carolum Secundum 

proalio Vigomenii (anno 1651) devietum 

Sibique foga consulentem 

in Buia aedibus Mosleanls protexit. 

Euge I serve bone et fidelis 1 Matt, xxv., ver. xxi. 

Biste, Viator, intua cineres yenerare fideles. 
Qui Jacet bio aerrua Ccaare digntia erat. 
Magnia baud magnum eat coolo aenrire aereno 
Tempora dum fuerunt nubila eerrua erat. 
Illi Bex boapes devictus, inermia, egenua, 

Larvatus totus, dissimiliaqiie aibi. 

Iiitorea femim, flammas et fulmina spirans 

Begem qurerebat sauguinolcnta cobors 

Delude suns fudit spcciosa pecunia voces 

Seque minis junxit miuicra Inrga tocans 

Sed X X nil ti'uctus erat nil damua pavebat 

Crescit eniln cclso pectore fidus amor 
Crescit amor fidua Begia Bognique Britanni 
Si sapias ex boo marmore disco fidem. 

( Domini mdccii. 
Obiit die xiv mensis lulii annol »?♦»»:. „,„ ,*^»,^ 

^^ Italia 8U8Q LXXXIV. 

Hie quoque jacent corpora Thoroso Whitgreave Armig. qui obiit 10 Septr- 
1728, et Isabellee Tourville uxoris defunctsD 19 Julii 1742, ex qua decern 
suscepit infantes, quorum quatuor hie jacent, viz. Johannes, Gulielmus, 
Isabella, et Francisca. 

[ R. H. B. ] 

Tde Family of Wy.vdiiam, 

Tlie family of Wyudliam, whoso eldest loiile branch is repre- 
sented by tlie prOBCut Earl of Egremout, nppeara to have beeti 
at ao early period settled in Norfolk. About tlio commeuoe- 
ment of Stephen's reign, Alwai'd de Wymondham, with his four 
sons, wituesscd tlio charter of Wymotulham Prioiy,* near 
Crownthorpe, their earliest abode on record. In the reigna of 
Heory III. and Edward I., Thonitts and William de Wymond- 
hamt respectively held offices of trust under the crown. I« 
14l>0, John Wyndham of Crownthorpe, Esq., the second who 
shortened the family name into Wyndham, was elected knight 
of the shire for Norfolk, and about the same time acquired the 
Felbrigg estate by purchase. His son. Sir John Wyndham, 
engrafted the royal blood of Edward I. and Philip the Bold 
into the family, by his marringe with Margaret Howard, 
daughter of John first Duke of Norfolk, who fell at Bosworth. 
The same Sir John was beheaded in 1502 by Henry VII. for 
his attachment to the bonse of York. To pass over the family 
alliances with Scropes, Wentworths, the Keeper Bacon, and other 
distinguished names, which occur subsequently to this period, as 
well us the gallant anecdote related in '■ Fuller's Worthies " of 
Sir Edmuud WyndhamI of Felbrigg, oldest grandson of the 
last-named Sir Jolm, it appears that the first otfset from the 
jiarent branch was Sir John, the second grandson, who settled 
at the estate of Orchard in Somerset, acquired in right of Eliza- 
beth his wife, heiress of the Sydeuhams. Edmund, second son 
of the latter, also marrying an heiress, was fixed at Keyntsford, 
in Somerset ; while Sir John Wyndham, grandson of Elizabeth 

• 8ee Afonatlicm. 

t Soe DinfiWo'a Oritpt^t JaJitiaItt, unH Davis's Bepaiit. 

I Boing condomnod to loae bis ri^hl band for ntrikiag n Mr Goer in Ibe 
kui^a tvDniii-cDiirl, Sir Edmund jinjod to \ime bi» lefl instead, nnd koop bis 
light ; " toe Iherowitb," nid bo, " I inny ilo tho kiog noirioe." L'[mhi t!ii« 
Mibnii^on and rwiuoKl, a {uirdon vn* granlnl him. 

2 <; 


Sydenham, and son of Florence, coheiress of Nicholas Wadham, 
Esq., founder of Wadham College, united in himself the Orchard, 
Felbrigg, and other estates, in failure of issue from the elder 
branch. Fifteen children sprung from his marriage with Joan,* 
daughter of Sir Edmund Portman, of Orchard Portman, Somerset. 
The eldest surviving son, who inherited Orchard- Wyndham, was 
fether to the Sir William whom Charles II. rewarded with a baro- 
netcy, great-grandfather to the well-known Secretary Wyndham, 
and ancestor of the present Earl of Egremont. On Thomas, the 
next son, ancestor to the late distinguished statesman, the Felbrigg 
property was settled by his father. Two more sons are respectively 
represented by the Wyndhams of Cromer Hall, and by Miss 
Wyndham, now Lady Dunraven. The ninth son, Sir Wadham 
Wyndham of Norrington, one of the judges in the King's Bench, 
was the ancestor of the present William Wyndham, Esq. of Din ton 
House and Norrington, representative of the Wiltshire branch. 
To return more particularly to our subject -matter, ^ir Thomas, 
son of the first possessor of Keyntsford, was the person whose 
memorable deathbed address to his sons is recorded in the 
" Claustrum Regale.'' His eldest son. Sir Edmund, was hi^ in 
favoiu* at the court of Charles I., where he filled the post of groom 
of the bedchamber ; while his lady, an opulent heiress and cele- 
brated beauty, acted as nurse to the Prince of Wales. Francis, 
the sixth son, meantime acquired the property of Trent by his 
maiTiage with the heiress of the Gerards. It is well known how 
these two sons, besides three more who fell on the field of battle, 
redeemed their filial pledge on the breaking out of the Civil 
War. Sir Edmund is stated to have taken the field with two 
regiments of horse, and one of foot, raised at his own expense, at 
tlie sacrifice of his Dorsetshire manora and other property, sold to 
the amount of £1000 per annum. After making also a free gift 
to Charles of £20,000, he raised for the royal service the sum of 
.£G0,000 more on his own credit, at the time of the king's great- 
est need. His eldest son, Edmund, fell at Edgehill. His third, 
Thomas, whose liistor}'^ we shall resume, was page of honour to 
Charles II. On the Restoration, Sir Edmund was appointed 

• According to family tradition, this lady evinced signs of life during her fime- 
ral sermon, was happily rocovero<l, and bore five or six children sul^seqiiently. 
.Some accounts attribute the anecdote to the Lady Florence, her mothor-in-Iaw. 


kuighUmarahal, as aome amenda for bis formor disappointment 
Id not obtwining the office of Becretary of state.* Nor does he 
appear to have derived any advauttige from a jrnuit of tines and 
arrearafjcs from CliDrlcs I., an well as of fen land (subBequcntly 
swallowed by the sea), in liquidation of a part of the siitoB pro- 
cured for the rojiil Bcrvice. His second and eldeet surviving 
Bon, Sir Htigh, knighted by Charles 11., died in the lifetime of 
his father, a mortified and heartbroken man, to judge at least 
by the following epitaph in the church of St DecumaD'B,t 
written hy himself, — 

"Hero lysth tho bod; at Sir Hiigb Wyndhnm. knlgbt, who dooeaieit 
20 July. IBH. 

Here lyes beneatb thifl ra^gvd atone 

And In hia nuutyr'd fatlior's wora 

Lost fortuDe^ blood — ^nJa'd noiigbt but HOitra ; 

And for bis suSeringn, a* rcwnnl, 

Hnd Dmther ccunteaiuice nor ro^nnl. 

* "One 6aj the Lord Cottjogtun, wben ttia ctumcollor and somo otbarswera 
preaent, told tbs klog rcry gnvoly laooordiDg lo his fuitom, who dotbt smiled 
wbeu be BUtde otben mony), that he hitd on biunblo suit to him, on diobohalf 
of ui old servaiil uC bia fiitbei'a, and nbom, ho ossurod bim upon bis knowledgo, 
his bthor loiod as veil as be did any mnn of his cnnililion in tngliiDd ; uid Chat 
ho had been for many yoan ono of his btloonen. and be did really believe him 
10 be one at the bait bloanera in EnglaTid ; and thereupon enlarged himself (u 
be could do very well in aU the terms of Che scionce) to show how vaj skilfbl 
he was in that art. The king asked bim what he would have him do for bim t 
CottingtOD told bim, It wne very true that bis majosCy kept uD &Ii»ineni, and 
the poor man wan grown ild, ood could not rido so well an he hnd used to do ; 
but tliat ho was a very hontat man, nnduoiild rand lory nell.and had as audible 
a voice as any man Deed to have ; nnd therrfore beeought his majesty that ho 
would make him his chaplain ; which upeakiiw with so oompoaed a countenRneo, 
and somewhat of earnsstaeas, the kiruc looked upon him with a araile lo know 
what he meant ; when be with the nune gravity osBured him, the IMconer was 
ia all respects as (It to be his chaplain bb Colonel Wyodham was to be secrelaly 
iif slAte ; wUeh so surprlMd the king, who had never spoken to him of the 
nmttflr, all that were pronent not beiog nble to ahalain from laiigliing. that his 
majesty was Bomawhatoiit of countenanoo ; and this bang monily tuld by some 
of the BtondOTshy, it grew to be a story in all companies, and did realty divert 
Uioldngfrom the purpose; and made tho otAer so muoh ashameil of prateadintj' 
lo it, (hat tboro wns no mire disooarse of it." — Soo ClarindoB, Oxford edition, 
vol. .1. p. 330. 

t Tho ttinifly buijlng-plaoe st Wntchct, Sononet. 


After the death of the knight-marshal, at the age of 82, the 
remnant of his estates was inherited by Sir Hughes son Edmimd, 
who dying childless, was succeeded by his uncle, Thomas Wynd- 
ham of Tale, the page of honour above mentioned. Though not 
distinctly named in the Boscobel Tracts, a very full account is 
given of this person in the femily papers. It is stated that on 
two occasions he was tried for his life. On the first, he had been 
seized with letters from Charles II., and was saved only by the 
casting vote of his personal friend Fleetwood. Again, having 
been concerned in Penruddock's rising, he was brought off by the 
powerful interest of Sir John Ck)pleston,* high sheriff of Devon. 
After the Restoration, he was appointed to his £Etther*s former 
post of groom of the bedchamber, as well as to that of equerry, 
with a pension of £200 per annum, which appears never to have 
been paid. He died at the age of eighty -six, in a state of dotage 
and great pecuniary distress, though the &mily papers state him 
to have inherited Keyntsford and Cathanger, estates which 
had probably been encumbered in the royal service. A peti- 
tion to the crown from his son, Edmimd Wyndham of Hum- 
ington, states an arrear of £6000 to have accumulated on 
the pension of the complainant's father, and represents the 
absolute destitution of himself and family. The last known 
representative of the knight-marshal was Thomas Wyndham, 
Esq. of Hammersmith, who died in 1777, oot. 83.t A son of 
Thomas Wyndham, by a second marriage, page of honour to 
James II., is said to have accompanied the exiled femily to 

* Sir John Coplcston was a younger branch of tho numerous family of tliat 
name in Devonshire, all of whom spnmg from tho ancient seat of Copleston, 
in that county. Ho lived at Pynos, near Exeter, which he inherited from his 
grandfather. He engaged in the service of tho parliament, although others of 
his name and family were royalists. He commanded a regiment many years, 
and soned in Ireland under Lord Lisle, during the years 1616 and 1647. Ho 
was sheriff of Devon in 1655, and having a regiment also under his command, 
was active in tho support of Cromwell's government, especially during Penrud- 
dock's revolt, for which service he was knighted at Whitehall, June 1, 1655. 
He afterwards sat in parliament for Rirnstaple. There is a letter from him to 
the Protector, in the 3d volume of Thurloe's State Papers, dated Exon» March 
10, 1654, detailing the measures h(f had adopted for securing tho peace of tho 

+ The above particulars were cliiefly taken from copies of family manu- 
scripts, furnished by the kindness of the Rev. John Heathcote Wyndham, 


Italy. Thus ends the history of a line, who, like many others, 
" lost all but honour " by their hereditary loyalty. 

To return to the Wyndhams of Trent. From the marriage 
of Colonel Franois Wyndham with Anne Gerard sprung five 
sons and as many daughters, whose progeny is extinct in the 
male line. The eldest son, Sir Thomas Wyndham, left a 
daughter, married to William James, Esq. of Ightham Court, 
Kent, whose descendant, Charles Grevis, Esq. of the same place, 
has lately assumed the name and arms of James. Several 
persons of this branch are surviving. The second son, Lieu- 
tenant-General Hugh Wyndham, died a bachelor in Spain, 
A.D. 1706. The third son. Sir Francis Wyndham, inheritor of 
the Trent property, survived his heir Thomas, whom he styles 
in his will " my imdutiful and extravagant son." His grandson, 
Sir Francis, having died under age of the small-pox, the estate 
devolved on a sister, the first Lady Montfort, who left two chil- 
dren. Frances, the elder, was the mother of the present Earl 
of Cadogan. Thomas, the younger, was the fiither of the 
present Lord Montfort. The Trent estate is now alienated. 

rector of Gorton, Somerset, brother to the present Mr Wyndham of Dinton. 
One of these was in the possession of Mr Wyndham of Hammersmith, sup- 
posed to have boon written about 1720 ; the other is thought to be of the year 


1^ WTnSAM Of f SBVT. 

Wyndluun, 1440. Kn~ 

lohn WyndhM, Knight = Uunnt, d»ar. of 

of th. Bhtn, MM. 8-. BiE-ClUloD,«d 

widow of »■ Bdwaid 

H«Ung., Ob. 14Sfl. 



<r, Husint, = 
nuu dMr. oflaho 
of BowuU. firn 
B*l. Duk.ofNor- 

bourn, 14 wirs. 



BUulxtta, EI«m 
m* Fnmdj daor 














** O 



00 o 




4^ fc^"^ 




3 5.i^ 

• JL i ri 

a 8 • 


S- T* "S -T • 


a r •j3 

5 2-?!:^ 

^ :•« 8 JS a 




a « J 


• * • ^ 


'2'H • 

'^ a 





So g S K 

e c * 

M «^»0 




(Continued fiwit preetdivg page.) 

Tho^ Gerard, 
of Trent 

Anne, da&r. 
of Robt- Coker. 

8^- FranciB Wyndham, = Aune. 
of Trout, 1*^ Bart. I 

Frances, = lohn Winter, 
I of Dyrham. 



of Trent, 

f. eth., 


Eliz^ Ger- 

daQr. of ard W., 
8^- Geo. o. c 

8r. Francis : 

of Trent, 

S<i- Bt-> 
re- married 


wid. of 





wid. of S»"- 

R. Newdi. 

gate. t 


of lame 


ob. 1694. 





of New- 
ton, CO. 

Som^' Esq. 






All died 




l^ Gen., 

killed in 


to King 



only daQr. 

and hoir. 


lames, of 

Jghtham Court, 

CO. Kent, Esq., 

ob. 1721. 


lames, bora 

1099, ob. 


only daOr. of 

. . Hyegato, 

ob. 1798. 

William lames, 
bom 8 Dec""- 
1704, ob. 1781. 


lames. Esq., 


b. 1705, ob. 
177*2, unm<^ 


lames. Col. 

in the army, 

b. 1707, buri 

at Dythc, CO. 


Anue, daOr. 
of . . Matthews. 

Richard lames, 

of Ightham Court, 

m.^- Letitia, dabr. 

ofTho*- Gibbon, 
Esq, of Cranbrook, 

ob. 1807, 8. P. 

William Turner, 

Accomptaut to 

the 81- Catherine 

Dock Company, 




born 1745, 

ob. 8. P. 




ob. 1784. 



Sarah, Bel 
ob. 29»h Eliz^h. 
Octr.. 1815. 





Capt. in 

the army. 


da&r. and 




b. 1774, 

m. 1807, 

Uv«- 1819. 



b. 1775, 

m. 1805, 


of Wool- 



William lames 
Hindman, oulv 
son, twin with 
Frances Maria, 
o. c. 1804. 

Demetrius Grevis, 
succeeded to the 
estatoof his cousiti, 
Richard lames, txxA 
assumed the name 
of lames, in pur- 
suance of his Will. 


William I{\me« 

Turner, iivK- 


„ I 

Anno, Uv^' 




Uv»- 181}». 




(Continwed from preceding page.) 

wid. of lames 
Bemey, 1»* w. 

8'- Francis Wyndham, 

3d Baronet, 2« son of 

S F. Wyndham of Trent, 

by his wife Anne Gerard, 

bom 1053, ob. 1715. 

Esther, daOr. 
of . . Ellis, and 
wid. of Matt*- 
Ingram, 2<iw. 

Henrietta, daOr. 
Ham, Esq., widow 
of Sr- Balpb Newdi- 

gaie, rem**- W"- 
Lowfleld, 3^ wife, 
Uts. 1748. 


Thomas Wyndham, 

Esq., only son, boru 

drca 1682. livs- Aug. 

1714, but died before his 


Lucy, daOr. of 

Richd. Mead, of 

London, Mercht- 


gr. Frauds Wyndham, 

of Trent, 4^ and last Bart, 

bom 1707, ob. 1719. 8.P. 

Henry Bromley, 

created Lord 

Montfort 1741, ob. 


Charles Sloane, 

!•* Earl of Cadogan, 

rem<L Mary, daOr. 

of Cha>- Churchill, 

by whom he had 

issue, ob. 1807. 

Frances, Mary Anne, 
m. 1747. daOr. of Sir 
ob. 1708. Patrick Blake, 
of Langham, Co. 
Suffolk, Bart. 

Frances, died in 

childbed, 11^ 

Feb7- 1733. 

Thomas, 2^ Lord, 
Montfort, bom 7 

Fcby- 1738, m. 

1772, ob. 17W. 

Cha*- Uenr- 

Sloane, 2<i 

Earl, livs- 

unm<L 1829. 


Wm- flenrv Thomas George Edward Henry Henry, = Elis*- 
Cadogan. Clk. Cadogan, Cadogan, Cadugan, Cadogan, 3<iL^ daOr. of 

Vicar of Choi- b. 1752, b. 1754. 

sea, b. 1761 , lost in his kiUed in 

m. 1782, lane, M.S. Glor- India, 

wid. of ..Brad- ioiu, 1782. unm<L 
Shaw, ob. 1797, 1780. 


b. 1768, b. 1761, Montfort, 
ob. at S*> ob. unm<L livs- 1831, 
Lucia, 1774. S.P. 



[ R. H. B. ] 



•2.-TABLE showing the Descent of .... WTHDHAM from Kikg Edward L 
and Philip the Bold of France. (See p. 381.) 

EDWARD lit, 
Kiug of EnglancL 


Brotherton, B. 

of Norfolk, and 

Marlschal of 

Engld. ob. 1338. 

Margaret* eldest daor. of 

Philip r Bold, King of 

France, 2a wife. 

Alice, da&r. of Sir Roger 

ob. 8.F. 

Margaret^ = lohn, lA 

daQr. and Seagrare. 

sole h. 

ob. S.P. 

— Edwi^ Montagu. 


luUn, lA Mow. = Elizabeth, =8^- Walter Manny, Kn(> 

lohn, JA Mow- 
bray, o. c. 

Mowbray, = 

Thomas Mowbray, 

8<i son, 1 Dolce 

of Norfolk. 

ElixtiL daOr. of 

Rich<L Fits-Alan, 

E. of Arundel. 



ob. S.P. 

lohn, S*"- Rob*- Howard, = Margaret, 
ob. S.P. Kn«- 

Isabel, = 


Howard. = 

8>*- lohn Howard, 

created Duke of 

Norfolk, killed at 

fioawortb field, 


diiOr. of the 

Sf Rich«*- Colepeper, 

of Oxcnheath, CO. 

Kent, Knt^ 

2«i Duke, 


S"" Edward 
Howard, stan- 
dard-bearer to 

K UeruS. 


For issue 

of this 


sec pat^e 

381 et itq. 

8"- lohn 
ham of 

i I 

8«"- Edmnnd = loyco. 

Ueury = Elu^ 

Kiug Henry 8^ = Catherine. 

of Bar- 
a quo 
of Kent. 


[ R. H. B. ] 





ohoenliLfflw, = Roger dc U Ufdc, ^ Qwffroy. 

liiird dr, In Ion*. := WiilWr, a PAmt. 
131 G. I a.P. 

= Wiilti>r,«Pri««l. TbO' =:Fiitnmc1. 

dg [■ Uyda. It.. 

Balpb de ^ lonn. GUn. 

^ Lma do ^= SIJubMlk 

S,oI>.1<IEbid S, 
143 ». I 

RIsbud lame, Etq., = 

Thomu, :^^ Hurgioy. Rilph lane, [ «t b_ ^ loTM, duOr. 
3* ™ of eb. IT Bdw* 4 S'??*t. "' 



SH«arS,lMT. Rtun 

lohn Idne, or :=:; * Miroanst. dMkr. 

B«iU«.ob.l« I orThvPiinsk, or 

Wit, King's Bromle; . 

Richard lane, Ttomu Lama, ^ Catherifui, daor. 
I*- mn. t et b., Db. I ot Riobi- Trent- 

lUD. bam, Elq. 

Tboou* lane. tdai Ian«, f, et b., ^ lu 
11 iDD. ob. S' lamea 1-- B 

IT. of Hiebad lane, CitmnUn, 
It*- or Kernel, CO. m'- Tbo'- sd 

OD, HonmL'taq.. aonofS'' 





u the Arma of the DwfcendantB of Jobs Lane 
of Bdntley. 

■W^^^ I P^bOH. 

^^^^^^^^J R[gU Ho 

ua Ihc King^ moit BiMllent MiVt h 

li^ttud Bi^-mmiiDnli n^uifled uuunna, 

Pat«Tbarov, Dfipatj. with his Mtfi<"- tyyri 

RIgU Honi'l^ IIdht Earl of Notwioh, Ei 

B Rnf 111 plewiura IducMd^ ivn au 

CoUortheii«aondaDU lanfiil 

whicb iiniff. coutDEOblag tho 
Fiithsr HpiiiiBtaQy ttho ahi 
propMod lo nch u Bbuiim 

|>OnoD» Rod not V^QiDgADy hi 

•Higbum, did b; h<a great pr 
lM>gtli lo rotlrc to plairtji of aa 

body Df U» aa]d John laita, Q 
conala&t Fidatlty ; That li Co 
tbirir Patarnal wmea, Thr«Q 


In iiutnxmniUI to 
aaard bin Pamily mij 
udcnco and fidelit; •« ocndg 
Lffltj bejnnd tha iCAi, hara ' 
inuitcd unto tha Doceudc 

llurtharoni of our RojeI 
and dlad^ning the Rawnrda 
ico*erf ud deatruatloD of our 
wlcb Iha duty of w uiupottsd 

le Paternal 

officara of anuea to Uarahall and aatt up ia all proper placiA au^J 

direct and nqulra the Renter of our Oollego of Armeg to cause tliiiour mnceailOD In 
bedulyenlred upoD Record in the aald College, 

OiTenundaroarlloyaJSiKDcCaDd B<i{n Uusnal thli ll'i' day of July a* lETT, and In 
tha»»yoarnrDurBoigii. By bl»«a>>» mmDuind, J. WllUamaon. These are tbaro- 
(ura, oeonnling to hli UaXo Royal Will and Ploaaura, aigslDed unto mo ty bia lald 

of yoo, to do and perlbmi fromtlmoto Ums, uaccsnaD aball nniuUl^ nllandtrerj tl>e 

poiDlcd la be dono by ya<>- aiery or auy of yo"- for or on the Imbalf of y Deieenilcat* 
laHtUlly laauad tuna Ihobady of the lojd John Iadc— And for your ■» doing thiaibali 
ba unto yo°- and avoryoryoi. aiuffieloot narnuit. Dated under my band and tboaeat 
0flbBE.Ii*ralia""0flleBlhlilB">day of JoUJ 10.;7, nnd in the»ii>yo»r of his MjII". 

I H. H. B. I 


3.>- ASSIGNMENT of Crest to Thomas Lane, by Heralds* College. 

To All and Singular to whom these presents shall come, 8r. Witln- Dogdals Kn* 
Garter Prindpall King of Armes, and 8^- Henry S** Oeorgs, Kn^ Xorroy King of 
Armes, send greeting : Whereas the B^ Hon^^ Robert Earl of Ailesbtuy, Deputy, 
with his ICsjetties approbaoon, to his Grace Henry Duke of Norfolk, Earl IfanihaH of 
England, hath by warrant or order under his tumd and the seal of the 8eaU of the Earl 
Marshall's office, bearing date the 87*i* day of January last paat, signified onto us that 
Thomas Lane of Bentley, in the County of Stafford, Esq., hath made application to him, 
the said Deputy Earl Marshall, for his consent to have such a Crest granted and 
assigned to him as may denote the Loyalty of his fismily, and he and his descendants 
may lawfully bear : And whereas the said Deputy Earl Marshall being highly sensible 
of the great and signal service performed by John Lano of Bentley aforesaid. Father of 
the said Thomas, in his ready concurring to the preserration of his Maf^^ person after 
the Battel of Worcester (as by lus Ma*^ late warrant touching an augmentation to the 
Paternal Armes of the said John Lane, entr^ amongthe Records of the Cdlego of Armes, 
may more fully appear), did signify unto us his consent for our Devyiaing, granting, 
and assigning unto the said Thomas Lane such Crest as aboreaaid. Know ye thersfoxv 
that we, Uie said Chuier and Norroy, in pursuance of the consent of the said Deputy 
Earl Marshall, and by the authority of the King's Letters Patients to each of us rsqpee- 
tivety, granted under the Great Seal of Engl<^> have devysed, and do by those presents 
grant and assign unto the said Thomas Lane, the Crest hereafter mentioned, Yis^ oat 
of a Wreath Or, and Asure a Demy- Horse, Strawbenie Colour, bridled eaUe. Bitted 
and garnished Or, supporting sn Imperiall Crown Gold, as in the nuo-gin hereof is 
plainly depicted : To be borne and used for ever hereafter by him, the aadd Thomas 
Lane, and the heirs and other Descendants of his body lawfully begotten, at all times, 
and upon all occasions, according to the Law and practise of Armes, without thelett, 
iuterruption, dispute, or contradiction of any person or persons whatsoever. In wit* 
uess whereof. We the said Garter and Norroy Kings of Armes have to these presents 
subscribed our names and aflSxed the seals of our respective offices this 5^ day of 
February, in the One and thirtieth year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord Charles the 
Second, by the Grace of God King of Engi<*-, Scotland, France, and Irel«*-' Defender of 
the Faith, etc*^ Annoq. Dni 1678. 

Signed— Will*. Dugdale, Hk.'**- St Gkorok, 

Garter. Normy. 

Ej\ra«»- Tho. May Chester, 
Or. King Rougedragon. 

[ R. H. B. ] 

Coi-ONEL WiLLi.\ii Carlos, 

With respect to ColoDel WlUiatn Carlos, the compauiou of 
King Charles during his temporary occupatjou of the Royal 
Oak, it appears tlut be uot only Eurvived the Rcstoratiou, but 
lived to see tlie family for which ho hud eierted himself again 
espatriated. Hia will, dated in 10^8. was proved in the Prero- 
gfttife Oflice, Doctors' Commons, in the Ootolicr of the following 
yoar. By it« contents, we may presume, that although he had 
once possessed a son, named after himself William (who died at 
the age of twenty-five, twenty years liefore his Bither, as is 
proved hy a tablet erected to his memory at Fiilham), yet at 
his decease ho left uo surviving legitimate issue, inasmuch as 
he beqtieatlis the whole of his property, some Tery trifling 
legacies excepted, to his " adopted eon, Edward Carlos," then 
of Worcester, apothecary, and " his isane." Of the degree of 
relationship (if any) in which this Edward Carlos stood to him, 
there ia no evidence. That he nas a nephew ia improbable, 
since one of the li^aies above mentioned is a charge upon his 
estate of an annual payment of five pouuds to his nephew. 
" William Carlos, son of my brother John j " while that ho 
wna a natural child of his own, is also unlikely, as, after 
bequeathing hia property, failing Edward and his isane, to 
"William, second brother, and third brother of the said Edward 
Carlos," successively, be gives the ultimate remainder to " the 
/leirn-tit-law of the said Edward Carlos," a circumstance whicli 
Beema to prove his having been bom in wedlock. From this 
Kdward Carlos, and Dorothy bis wife, daughter of Geo. Smith 
of Aahhy Folville, co. Leicester, the descent in the male line 
is unbroken, its present ropresoDtative being his great-great- 
grandson, Edward John Carlos, Esq. of the Lord Maj-or's 
Court Office, London. Colonel Carlos, as well as the Penderels, 
Wyndhams, &c., appears to have aflbrded an exception t« the 
general charge of ingratitude towards his adherents brought 


against Charles, as, in addition to the grant of armorial distinc- 
tions, a more substantial proof of regard existed in the shape of 
certain ballastage dues on the river Thames, which, from the 
report of the Committee of the House of Commons on the 
improvement of foreign trade in the year 1822, appears to have 
been since annulled, as interfering with the rights of the 
Trinity House. It is no doubt in allusion to this grant that 
the colonel, in his will, bequeaths annuities to the amount of 
£300 per annum, to be paid in different proportions, " so long 
as the means shall be available out of monies to be paid by the 
Trinity House." 



Cv]», £ 

petlUoi.- __., „...„ 

•dPulla- o[ euf- uU. of lolu. 

pntec- gent. Warw. AujnuFfDV. 

Sdmrd BUi<k. Ktzj. WUlbun = .. diOr. Pmici* EIU^ 
Ck-Ioi. in*-Ilot* Culoa. -»«»- ---.— _. 

Tbomu Carka, 

EdinnI lolm 


[ R. H. B. ] 


No. VI. 

The Nobtons op Abbots' Leigh. 

The manor of Leigh or Lega, consisting of between four and 
five thousand acres, and otherwise called Abbots' Leigh, from 
its former monastic tenure, was granted after the Reformation 
by Edward VI. to Sir George Norton, knight, and his heirs. At 
the time of Charles ll.'s escape, George Norton, Esq., the pos- 
sessor, resided there with his wife, the daughter of Sir Wil- 
liam Owen of Condover, Salop, and the friend of Jane Lane. 
To reward his hospitality, Mr Norton was knighted at the 
Restoration. He left a son, whose offspring (including a natural 
child who poisoned himself in Newgate, while under sentence 
for killing a dancing-master) are extinct. His daughter Ellen 
married William Trenchard of Gutteridge, Esq., and left ten 
children, from none of whom there are any accredited de- 
scendants, save frx>m Frances Grace, wife of John Hippisley, 
Esq. The grandson of the latter, John William Hippisley, of 
Gutteridge, Esq., assumed the name and arms of Trenchard, 
and died unmarried in 1801, leaving two nephews sprung from 
his sister Ellen by different marriages — viz. John Ashfordby, 
LL.D. of Staunton-Fitzwarren House, Wilts, who has sinc^ 
assumed, by royal patent, the name and arms of Trenchard ; 
and Walter Long, Esq. of Preshaw House, Hants, and Hazeley 
Court, Oxfordshire, married to a daughter of the Earl of 


No. VII. 


P. M. S. 

Capt Nicholas Tettcrsell, through whose prudence, valour, and loyalty, 
Charles the 11^-* King of England, after he had escaped the sword of his 
merciless rehells, and his forces received a fatal overthrow at Worcester, 
Septi"* 3<]» 1651, was faithfully preserved, and oonfeyed into France, de- 
parted this life the 26th July 1674. 

Within this marble tomb doth lye. 

Approved faith, honour, and loyal tie ; 

In this cold clay he hath now tane up his station. 

At once preserv'dthe Church, the Crowne, and Nation, 

When Charles the great was nothing but a breath, 

This valianc sowle stept between him and death ; 

Usurper's threats uor tyrant rebells froune 

(Jould notafright his duty to the Crowne : 

Which glorious act of his for church and state, 

Eight Princes in one day did gratulate. 

Professing all in debt to him to bee. 

As all Uie world arc to his memorie. 

Since Earth coud not reward his worth have given, 

Hee now receives it Arora the King of Heaven. 

In the same chest one Jewell more you have. 
The partner of his virtues, bod, and grave. 

Susannah, his wife, who deceased the 4^ day of May 1762. To whose 
piouse memorie and his own honour, Nicholas, their only son, and just in- 
heritor of his fathei^s virtiose, hath payed his last duty in this monument. 

Tlcre also lyeth interred the body of 

Capt. NicBOLAB Taitkbskll, his sou, who 

departed this life the 4tii of the Calends 

of October 1701, in the 5V^ year of his ago. 

[ R. H. B. ] 





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